Gravity
by The Flame and Hawk's Eye
Summary: In a final act of desperation after being dealt a fatal blow by Van Hohenheim, Pride makes the fateful choice of latching itself onto the closest vessel it can find: Lieutenant Hawkeye. This decision, however, forever changes the fates of those involved, as well as the ultimate outcome of the Promised Day. Brotherhood/manga divergence. Royai, Parental!RoyEdAl, EdWin, AlMay.
1. Shadows

**A/N:** _Okay, so super quick explanation for why I wrote this. Sometimes when I study incredibly hard, I have insanely bizarre dreams (nightmares?). Since this past week I had a total of 6 exams I, of course, had some pretty odd dreams, with this being one of them. But since I had such an odd dream, I figured I'd use it as a writing exercise and share. So, enjoy this complete little random AU twist that my study-brain plagued me with._

* * *

Brushing off excess pollen that had accumulated on his jacket, Roy Mustang hurriedly made his way to the front entrance of Riza's apartment building. Sneezing as a result of the dust cloud that resulted from his rushed gesture, Roy silently regretted buying the entire flower cart from the Armstrong woman.

Under any other circumstance, he would have stopped and purchased a vase and placed some into it to give to his… "favorite subordinate," but now was certainly not the time. Instead he opted to grab a fistful of posies and lilies that were strewn about in the backseat of his car to present to her. He felt that they would remedy the situation he had formulated and visualized in his mind; whichever one it was. But Roy couldn't help but worry and wonder because when he had talked to her on the phone, something seemed off…

Opening the door, he veered left and toward the staircase that would lead him up to the third floor. Though he had only been there a handful of times since they had transferred to Central, his body naturally gravitated and steered him toward her apartment. As he briskly ascended the steps, Roy's thoughts immediately turned back to their conversation, trying to extract any information he could deem valuable before facing her.

They automatically turned to her current predicament, with her remaining under the watchful eye of the Fuhrer himself as she acted as his hired hostage.

He knew that coming here was an extreme risk, even though he had taken every precaution to ensure that he was not followed. Still, the feeling that sat in his gut had become completely unbearable; this feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

What if it was she that was being followed now? He knew well enough that she was being scrutinized just as harshly as he, but the thought that someone could be stalking her, watching her at every moment, terrified him. What if they had threatened her further? What if they hurt her?

Swallowing thickly, he stopped outside of her apartment and raised his fist to knock, but allowed it to hover there for a few moments. What if they were there now and that was the reason she had seemed so cold and distant during their conversation? And if that were the case, what would they do when he made his presence known?

With that thought he reached into his pocket and produced his ignition gloves, slipping them over his hands while he balanced the bundle of flowers on his arms. Because if there was someone there, he would need to be ready to fight.

When he had mentally prepared himself, he gave her door a few loud rasps, and waited patiently, straining to listen for the usual clicking that would normally announce Black Hayate's presence in her apartment. Instead, however, there was nothing, which he found highly unusual. Normally the young Shiba pup would throw himself against the door and alert his owner of a visitor's presence, especially this late at night. While the possibility that she had stepped out with the dog was probable, it seemed unlikely as Hayate's normal outdoor area was in front of the building. He would have seen them if that were the case. And while it was also possible that she may have taken him for a walk, Roy quickly decided that that was improbable as well, especially with the way their conversation had gone.

His thoughts were broken when he finally heard movement inside the apartment. A few moments later he heard a _click_ as the door was unlatched and opened slightly, only to be caught on the chain that kept it locked otherwise.

Riza's eyes widened momentarily as she recognized him, and then narrowed slightly, as if in annoyance. "Colonel Mustang… I wasn't expecting you."

Confused by this odd display of formality, Roy held up the bouquet as a peace offering and answered, "I know. I figured I would just stop by. You seemed a bit stressed when I talked to you a few minutes ago."

She stared at him for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and replying hardly, "Well, as you can see I am fine, sir, so good night-"

Just as she was about to close the door, Roy instinctively stuck his foot between the door and threshold, preventing her from closing it further. When she stared back critically, Roy appealed to her, "Riza, I just want to be sure you're fine." He then nodded toward her apartment, hoping she'd understand his silent request to comb the premises.

For a moment she did not waver, the corner of her lip twitching agitatedly. But at long last she relented, closing the door and unlatching the chain that served to keep the door's opening angle to a minimum. Stepping out of the way as she pulled the door open, she begrudgingly allowed him inside.

As he stepped in and surveyed the dark apartment, his thoughts immediately went back to its other occupant. "Where's Black Hayate?"

"Sleeping," she replied mechanically, quickly, as she took the flowers from his hands and turned toward the small table in the center of her dining room. "I took him for a long walk before you called me and it tired him out."

Following behind her, he reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders, causing her to tense up. Frowning, Roy said, "Did something happen today?"

"No," she replied shortly as she set the bunch of flowers down on the table. "But I think you should go," she insisted again, a touch of annoyance in her voice.

Remaining where he was, Roy slowly turned her around so that he could look her in the eye. Placing his hands once again on her shoulders, he slowly guided them up so that he cupped her face in his hands.

Before he could even react or even think, she lunged forward and hurled him against the wall, slamming her forearm against his throat and holding it there, knocking the wind from his lungs. In a desperate struggle to make sense of her actions, Roy attempted to flail and push her away, but found that his arms and legs no longer seemed to work, feeling as if they were pinned to the wall he was firmly pressed against.

"You should have gone home when I told you to," she said impassively as he attempted to struggle against the increasingly overbearing pressure on his neck, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. "Because if you had, I wouldn't have needed to kill you."

"Wh-why," he managed to wheeze as he fought against the darkness that had begun to cloud his vision and the lightness in his head that accompanied it.

"Why indeed," she replied nonchalantly as she steadied the pressure on his neck, allowing a small amount of air to enter his lungs as he continued to frantically gasp. "Maybe it's because she still lives and there is so much of you and so little of me…" As if this statement had caused some sort of revelation, she thrust her arm forward, once again forcing the air from his lungs.

Leaning toward him, her eyes narrowed dangerously, she spat venomously, "The last thing this body remembers is fear, and yet there is a feeling of desperation that is bound to me. As if this desperation belonged to me before I even came into existence. But that assumes I existed before the moment I was born…" Once again the pressure on his neck decreased slightly as she cast her eyes downward, darting back and forth as she tried to recall whatever memory she desperately needed. "But she remembers shadows," she muttered to herself as she continued to wrack her brain.

And as she did, the darkness that consumed Roy's peripheral vision slowly began to creep forward and toward the center of his perception. It was at that moment, however, that he realized it wasn't a darkness induced by a decrease in oxygen or even stress.

No… This darkness was tangible and moving… As if it was alive.

"They were desperate," she mused. "Desperate because they were dying-"

Mixed in with the darkness that seemed to envelop them, he saw something else moving near his seemingly weighted arms and legs. Small, jagged shadows wrapping themselves around his appendages, literally holding them tighter and tighter.

Tangible, _living_ shadows that were seemingly moving in tune with her emotions.

"-Hohenheim," she whispered to herself, "They said it was _Hohenheim_ that did this to them-"

They continued to move up his legs and arms, reaching up and across his chest as they snaked up toward his neck.

"-So they sought refuge in the only container they could find," she revelated, as if putting the final pieces of the puzzle together.

At last the shadows reached his neck and tightened around it, cutting off his air supply yet again.

Releasing her hold on his neck, Riza took one step back, then another as she stared down at her hands. "It all makes sense now," she murmured cryptically.

Struggling, fighting against the dark restraints that held him, Roy at last managed to sputter, "Wh-what-"

"The shadows' desperation was mine and mine was theirs," she said as she looked up at him, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. Stepping toward, she reached up and ran her hand down his cheek, causing the blood in his veins to run cold as he was struck with realization.

She had found it… The last Homunculus.

"Therefore," she said as she looked him square in the eye, her lips tugging upward in a smile as his vision began to darken and cease, "Those shadows were mine… Those shadows are _**Pride's**_."

* * *

 **A/N:** _ **Just for the record and for your piece of mind, Black Hayate is not dead (I could never do that to him ;_;).**_

 _Anyways, that was fun to write out (thanks for bearing with my unusual and extremely odd dream, which I think was also induced by a comparison between Riza and Pride, since she could be considered to be Humility, the exact opposite of Pride). **I was going on the assumption that, like the second Greed in FMAB, a second Pride probably wouldn't have the memories of the first.** _


	2. Awake

**A/N:** _Alright, so I'm going to try and run with this now. It's starting to develop into an AU that will include everyone, so expect Royai (of course) Parental!RoyEdAl, slight Parental!Riza, Edwin, AlMay, etc. What my goal is is to include all of the characters that had a role in the Promised Day, and alter the events that led up to and include it._

 _So I'm going with the divergence that Pride encounters Hohenheim (with a different outcome) before Hawkeye meets him. There are changes to Pride's appearance (eyes), etc. that will be explained if I continue further. So we'll see…_

 _Thank you for the reviews and feedback especially; I didn't expect the amount of interest I received for a continuation. Let's see how this goes… And if it doesn't go anywhere, at the very least Roy is still alive and well…_

* * *

Just as his head went limp and bowed forward, something inside of her stirred. Agitated, she growled, "You can't wake up now, not yet."

As the shadows withdrew, the unconscious man's weight pulled him downward. But before he hit the floor, she reached out and caught him, helping his body down. When he was safely on the floor, she stood and clicked her tongue in disdain, glaring at him as he breathed evenly at her feet.

It seemed that, for the time being, she couldn't kill him.

* * *

Bolting upright in his bed, Roy Mustang clutched his chest and panted frantically, drawing in as much oxygen as he could muster. Beneath his balled up fist, his heart pounded loudly and erratically at the memory of that nightmare. Reaching up with his free hand, he wrapped his fingers around his sweat-soaked neck and slowly massaged the area, his light grip irritating the strangely sensitive area.

Taking a deep breath, Roy exhaled slowly, commanding himself to steady his breathing. It had been a nightmare, he told himself as he looked around _his_ room. Fingertips brushing over the skin on his neck again, he furrowed his brow at the sensitivity. Readying himself to get out of bed and examine his neck, he turned toward his alarm clock, causing his heart rate to skyrocket yet again.

It was 8:03am. He was late.

Throwing the covers off himself, he rolled out of bed and grabbed the shirt he wore the night before, not caring that it was not pressed and wrinkled. Once he had slipped it over his head, he grabbed his uniform jacket that hung from his desk's chair and pulled it on.

When he had pulled his pants on, he grabbed an apple from a small basket of fruit on his kitchen table. Biting down on it and holding it between his teeth, he shrugged his black trench coat on over his shoulders and pushed his arms through.

Making his way out of his apartment, he closed the door behind him, forgetting entirely to stop and examine his neck.

* * *

When he walked through the doors of Central Headquarters, Roy's ears were instantly bombarded by a mess of quiet, unintelligible cacophony, individual soldiers' words lost to the conversations of others.

Just as he rounded the corner, Roy slammed into someone traveling opposite of him. Stumbling back he apologized as he looked up at them and froze, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Equally shocked by the sudden collision, but managing to collect herself faster than the superior officer was Lieutenant Hawkeye. Recognizing Roy, her hand snapped up in a crisp salute as she said, "My apologies, sir. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

Letting go of the breath he didn't realize he had held, Roy stiffly returned the salute. "No, I apologize, Lieutenant. My mind's been somewhere else this morning."

No doubt seeing his awkward response, she didn't answer right away, her eyes scanning his face. After watching him for a moment, she took a step forward and asked, "Are you alright, Colonel," as her brows knitted together with concern.

Roy instinctively took a step back, his hand subconsciously rising to grope his neck. The skin was suddenly as sensitive as it had been this morning…

Surprised by his display, she too took a step back, but continued to eye him with worry.

 _Keep it together, Roy_ , he silently berated himself. It had just been a dream, a nightmare. Riza was standing here in front of him, completely normal; completely fine…

Releasing his hold on his neck, he ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair and sighed. "I'll be alright," he said with a short chuckle. "It was a rough night." When she raised a brow in question, he shook his head and said, "I'll tell you about it later." Looking past her and down the hallway at a group of lower-ranking officers that were whispering under their breaths, he asked, "What's going on there," as he subtly pointed toward the crowd.

After watching them for a few moments, she turned to him and muttered, "It would seem that the Fuhrer's son has gone missing."

Roy must have looked extremely shocked because she continued by saying, "They said that it happened between ten and midnight last night. It was confirmed that there was a dried pool of blood on one of the property's walkways. Right now," she added quietly as a group of higher-ups walked by, discussing the same subject, "They are assuming the worst."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Roy muttered, "Do they have any leads?"

She shook her head defeatedly as she looked over her shoulder at the group again. "So far," she said quietly, "They don't. I was there last night around ten to drop off some documents. The security was extremely tight, so it's hard to imagine that someone had gotten in…"

"Could it be a declaration of war," he pondered. "Possibly someone that wanted their own hostage," he continued to wonder aloud, wracking his brain with a plethora of possibilities.

"I don't know," she mused as she shook her head, her attention now back on him. "If it were someone we knew, you'd think we would be informed…"

"Honestly," Roy murmured, "I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't hear anything right away, though." When she raised her brows in surprise, he elaborated, "I haven't heard from any of the men for days now, and the Elrics are practically inaccessible to us up in the North, if they're still up there. If they had anything to do with it at all, we probably wouldn't know."

She nodded thoughtfully and was about to respond, but promptly shut her mouth as another mass of gossiping soldiers walked briskly by. When they were out of earshot, she muttered, "I should get going. I was called to a meeting with the Fuhrer. Later I have to catch up on some paperwork I've been behind on. I haven't had much time to Christmas shop, so I hope catching up will give me some free time after work."

He dipped his head in understanding.

"Take care of yourself, sir."

The corner of his lip twitched upward. "You too, Lieutenant." When she brushed past him and headed in the opposite direction of him, he remained where he was for a few moments, absorbing the last words she said to him.

 _Christmas shopping, hm…?*_ It had been a while since it was she that called for a meeting at his aunt's bar. He supposed that would mean he'd be meeting her there later tonight, most likely around ten if they stuck to their usual time.

Turning to watch after her, he couldn't help but think that if it was _she_ that called for a meeting, then it must be incredibly important…

* * *

When the Lieutenant had disappeared from view, Roy veered off of the main hallway and into the men's restroom. Discovering that it was empty, he hurried over to the mirror and rested his hands on the sink, leaning against it. Staring into his reflection, he frowned.

He didn't blame her for asking if he was alright. He looked downright awful: from the dark circles under his eyes to his disheveled, unkempt dark hair.

After critiquing his appearance for a few additional moments, Roy focused on what he _really_ came in here for. Reaching up and hooking his finger on his jacket collar, he tugged it downward to reveal his neck.

He felt his heart stop as he pulled the collar further and further down. On his neck, mirroring what he had experienced in his 'dream,' were a series of deep purple bruises that snaked around his neck.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir," Riza asked as she closed the Fuhrer's office doors, standing at attention.

"Yes indeed," Fuhrer Bradley said as he rose from being seated behind his desk. Lazily making his way around it, he clasped his hands behind his back and sauntered toward her. "Tell me, Lieutenant, did you deliver documents to my home last night?"

Furrowing her brows in slight confusion, she nodded sharply and said, "I did, sir. I delivered them at twenty-two hours, just before I returned home for the night." If he had been home at all, he surely would have had them hand delivered by his wife…

As he continued to advance, she felt a sense of uneasiness wash over her, causing her to take a step backwards, only to find her back against the office's door. No… It wasn't uneasiness… It was a sort of _pressure_ …

"And did you see my son, Selim, while you were there," he asked, stalking around her like a cat would a mouse.

"I did," she said slowly as a sense of fear began to rise within her, "Sir" she added as a quick afterthought, "I awoke him with the announcement of my presence. He… Thought it was you at the door."

He raised a brow incredulously at the statement, and then sighed. "I'll get to the point, Lieutenant. As you have probably heard," Bradley said as he took a step in her direction, "Selim went missing last night."

Connecting the situation in her head, Riza shook her head slowly, "Sir, if you are implying that I took Master Selim, please know that I would never-"

"Oh, you took something alright," the Fuhrer replied dryly as he closed the distance between them. "And we want it back…"

 _We?_ She didn't know what he wanted, what he was asking of her. All she knew was that the pressure was becoming increasingly heavier, pushing down on her and making her feel heavier every passing second. Making one last attempt to diffuse the situation, Riza said, "Sir, please understand that-"

But before she could even finish her sentence, the Fuhrer drew one of his blades and drove it through her abdomen.

* * *

Taking in a deep gulp of air, Kimblee relished the taste of iron that hung in the air. Looking at the crater he had been fighting in just moments before, he grinned sadistically.

So much ruin… So much destruction…

He absolutely loved it…

As his eyes surveyed the scene, they fell upon a bright red jacket and its owner below. Recognizing that it was the lifeless form of the Fullmetal Alchemist, he frowned to himself. They were not going to be happy about this… But, he supposed, what was done was done.

Turning on his heels, he began to make his way toward the tunnels that ran beneath the city. He had a criminal to catch…

* * *

This couldn't be happening… This couldn't be happening!

Staring down at the ground below him, Edward Elric's eyes widened in utter disbelief at the amount of blood, _his blood_ , which poured from his wound.

With a cry of agony, his arms gave out from beneath him and crashed to the ground, sending shockwaves of pain ripping through him. He began to violently tremble, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Edward's mind instantly went into overdrive, his thoughts screaming for him to do something… Anything!?

How could you possibly come back from that? How could you possibly survive having something _driven through you_ …?

The way he saw it at that moment, that crucial moment, was that there were only two options to make it out alive. Medical alchemy… alkehestry… He didn't know enough… Not enough to rely on it wholly.

The other option… The _only_ option to surviving something like **_this_** … Was a Philosopher's Stone.

* * *

The moment he withdrew his blade, a shower of red sparks and blood flowed freely from the wound he inflicted on the shocked Lieutenant. Taking a step back, he watched as muscle fibers and regenerated cells shot across and began to stitch the injury closed. As the wound continued to mend itself, he took a few more steps back, feeling an overwhelming pressure suddenly displace the molecules in the air.

Beneath her feet, her shadow grew larger, splitting into small vine-like shadows. He watched as she slowly looked up, her expression of shock melting away and leaving behind a glare dripping with murderous intent. Reddened eyes narrowed dangerously toward him.**

Smiling beneath his moustache, the Fuhrer growled, "There you are Pride-"

Before he could even finish his thought, one of the shadowy tendrils that had been at her feet broke free and darted toward him. When he leapt out of the way, it shot up from the floor and grabbed at his ankle, just centimeters from making its mark.

Using the wall as a springboard, the Fuhrer pushed off from it, avoiding a flurry of black and pointed shadows that were meant to pierce him. Drawing one of his swords, he managed to deflect one of the strikes that otherwise would have penetrated his shoulder. Skidding backwards, he narrowly avoided another attack, one of the shadows slicing through his cheek.

Drawing his second blade and bracing himself for another round, Bradley faltered for a second as the assault stopped, the shadows stopping just inches from him. His guard remaining up, he looked past them and saw Pride grinning back, a hint of delight in her eyes. "Your weakness is showing," she purred as she gestured to his face, referring to the cut that was still present.

Slowly reaching up, he used the back of his hand to wipe away droplets of blood and sweat that had begun to run down his cheek. "You know," Bradley stated, "It's rude to attack family."

"Regardless, when you corner a snake does it not strike back in defense," she challenged, the smirk on her face disappearing and replacing itself with a look of displeasure as the shadows receded, moving to dance at her feet like blackened flames.

"I needed some way to speak with you," he countered. "It's difficult to do when you're wearing the Lieutenant's façade."

She narrowed her eyes in contempt and scoffed. "Unfortunately that task will now prove too difficult to continue." When the Fuhrer lifted a brow, she explained, "She's aware now. Had you left me to my devices, I could have continued undetected for a while longer."

"There is no time to 'leave you to your devices,'" Bradley growled. "Your blatant disappearance last night caused quite a stir with Father."

For the first time during their conversation she stared at him with a perplexed expression.

Raising his brows, he tauntingly asked, "Have you forgotten…?"

"I know enough," she retorted. "You are the Fuhrer President and you are one of the several identified Homunculi. "And," she added, "There are other members of the military that are involved in this 'scheme' of yours-"

Bradley chuckled darkly, cutting her off. "This 'information' you have is only drawn from the Lieutenant's memories. You have failed to tell me one thing that you should know under normal circumstances." When her glare narrowed, he continued, "It seems that, without having Father as a medium for your Philosopher's Stone, you are unable to access your memories entirely." Raising his sword and pointing the tip at her, he said, "You will come with me to see him and remedy this minor lapse."

"And if I refuse," she challenged.

Without a word, he stepped forward and then vanished. A beat later he appeared behind her, blades crossed over his chest. A smirk forming on his face, he watched as red sparks spilled from the wounds he had inflicted on her arms, neck, and face as the skin began to reform and repair itself. Before she or the shadows could react, he raised one blade, pressed it to her neck, and muttered, "You won't refuse… Because I can be _very_ persuasive."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Like I said, we'll see where this goes! It's playing off a random dream I had turning finals week. So like I said in the beginning, I want to try and change the fates of those involved in the Promised Day (so no one's safe…) with this little AU. Next chapter, if/when I write it, will have more Edward in it, as I have plans for him. (* I'm aware that there technically isn't a Christmas in Amestris, but I couldn't resist…; **And I know that the Homunculi have violet/black eyes generally, but like I said above, reasons :P)_

 _Again, thanks for bearing with me and hope you enjoyed!_


	3. Seven Sins

"You were right," May exclaimed as she looked over her shoulder at the disassembled Alphonse. "It's a new Amestrian National Transmutation Circle that's activated through alkahestry."

"Astounding," Dr. Marcoh muttered as he reached out and brushed his fingers over the outer edge of the papers that were laid out. After staring at if for a few seconds longer, he looked up at Scar and whispered, "Your brother knew about the national circle… And found a way to reverse it."

Crossing his arms, Scar glanced down at him and grunted, "It would seem so."

"It's… amazing," May said with awe as she looked down at the circle again. "When activated, it will completely contradict the other circle." Glancing up to catch Marcoh's eye, she said, "It will reverse the process of drawing out souls for a Philosopher's Stone."

Dr. Marcoh looked at the circle again, losing himself in the array for a few minutes. Finally, he muttered, "With this, we can _finally_ get on the offensive." Directing his attention toward Alphonse, he said, "We could overlie this on the national circle as a safety. But if we can eliminate them now, our chances for preventing the original circle from being in the first place activated will be greater."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting," Alphonse asked.

Nodding firmly, Marcoh said, "I am. You told me that Gluttony and Envy came after you while you were treating the young prince's bodyguard, correct?" When the armor torso acknowledged the statement to be true, he continued, "How much do you want to bet one of them will be sent up here to retrieve me if they find out I'm alive?"

"So you're going to use yourself as bait," Winry asked as she got to her feet. Furrowing her brows with concern, she added, "Isn't that awfully risky?"

Marcoh nodded in affirmation. "It is, but looking at the gravity of this situation, this is the very least I can do to make an impact… Especially after all I've done… May," he said as he focused his attention on the young Xingese girl, "I will need your expertise for what I'm thinking of. Will you help me?"

"I will," May said with a solid nod. "I'll do whatever you ask of me."

Allowing a smile to creep across his disfigured features, Dr. Marcoh responded exhaled in relief. Turning to address everyone else, he said, "It's going to take a group effort to get all of this to work...-"

The young boy sighed with relief as May wandered over to him and picked up his chestplate, fiddling to undo the leather straps that held it in place. "Thank you," he murmured, eliciting a small blush from the black-haired girl.

"O-of course, Mr. Alphonse," she said as she raised the steel plate to the place it was supposed to be, the redness in her cheeks still evident.

While the others were discussing their plans on the opposite end of the room in hushed tones, a thought that had crossed Alphonse's mind still nagged at him. "You know something, May," Alphonse asked as the young girl began to fasten his breastplate on.

"Yes, Mr. Alphonse," she asked as she started to buckle it into place, a sense of professionalism suddenly wedging its way between them.

"While Dr. Marcoh was talking and planning, I couldn't help but realize something." When she gave him a look that urged him to go on, he continued. "I think that discussing the transmutation circle kind of put my mind into overdrive, so when he said something about Gluttony and Envy, a thought I had before crossed my mind again.

"Aside from them we've also encountered Lust, Greed, Wrath, and, if the one Brother and I saw at Fort Briggs holds true to what he was complaining about, then Sloth as well. These are the names of the Seven Deadly Sins; faults and imperfections that are said to shape every person and make them who they are."

"Oh, right," May said as she slapped her fist on her palm, "We have a similar concept in Xing; they're called the Seven Mortal Faults. But," she noted, "I only heard you say six. You're missing one."

"Right," the armor said, rocking slightly as if he had nodded. "I'm missing one because we haven't met it yet. And if the trend continues as it has been," Alphonse said gravely, "I doubt it will be long before the original sin, _Pride_ , reveals itself…"

* * *

"There is another like you," Wrath noted as they continued to descend the steps down into the catacombs beneath Central Command, the tip of his saber still pointed at Pride's back. "Greed also was born from a human host."

"Don't you mean two," she quipped without looking back at him. "Your stone, however, is much weaker than mine."

Wrath glared at the back of her head for a few moments before answering, "That is true, although the man that once possessed this body is no more, leaving only me to claim it. You, on the other hand, are engaged in a struggle for control."

"Hardly," she retorted indignantly. "She's fighting to oppose and repress me even at this very moment. But her will is much weaker than mine, so there really is no problem with containment."

"I would imagine it's quite crowded, though," he mused.

"Again your 'observation' is off," she objected. "If there is enough space within me for tens of thousands of souls, another soul will not hurt it. And if I wanted," she added, "I could absorb her and add it to the stone to use for energy."

"Then why haven't you," Wrath asked as they made it to the bottom of the steps.

She sidestepped to allow him to pass and take the lead, following closely behind him as he led her further into the seemingly deserted tunnels. After they had walked on for a while, she finally answered, "Her memories have proved useful thus far. It would be a shame losing them in the cacophony and mess of souls contained within the stone."

"Be sure you do not mistake them for absolute fact, Pride," Wrath warned. "You do not know what bias the Lieutenant has formed based on what Mustang has spoonfed her."

"You speak as if I am an idiot," she bit harshly. "I can infer my own opinions based on what she knows and what you have told me, _Wrath._ "

Wrath was about to respond when they finally reached their destination: a massive, circular room buried beneath Central Command. Within its center stood a wired, metal throne with an older, blond-haired man perched upon it. Sitting on one of the large pipes that connected the structure of the outer edges of the room was a dark-haired young man.

"Yo," Greed called out as he raised his hand in greeting and got to his feet as they approached. Recognizing the Lieutenant, he raised his hand and pointed out, "Hey, aren't you-"

"Greed, let me introduce you to Pride," Wrath acknowledged, gesturing to the blonde woman next to him.

"Pride," Greed snorted in disbelief. "You can't be serious. That little prick-" His rant was cut short when a long, narrow shadow wound its way up and around him, leaving him only a few seconds to raise his shield around his neck. When his brief look of surprised vanished, he chuckled darkly and said, "Heh, alright, alright; I believe you."

"So this is where you've been hiding," Father interrupted as he stared down the bridge of his nose at the blonde woman that stood before his self-appointed throne.

Raising her eyes to meet him, she watched him warily, observing him as critically as he did her.

Lifting his brows, the old man said, "Your Ouroboros is reflected in your eyes," in observance of her reddened irises, "Pride."

"So you are Father," she replied evenly as she relaxed slightly. "Wrath has informed me of the most basic circumstances of our situation. Until now I have remained diligent and devoted to your efforts by protecting you and assuring that everything remains as it should be?"

He nodded in affirmation. "Now… who has done this to you," Father stated absently, the offhanded statement more of a demand rather than a question.

She responded by narrowing her eyes in contempt at the recollection of those events. "The memories are still fragmented, but I recall Hohenheim being the reason."

"Hohenheim," Father mused as he sat back in his chair, leaning against the armrest as he rested his chin on his fist. "I find that difficult to imagine, seeing how he's always chosen to flee rather than fight."

"I can assure you," she replied evenly, "That it was Hohenheim that caused this."

Father watched her for a few moments before beckoning her forward, which she willfully abided to. Standing, he readied himself to be met by her. When she stopped just short of him after ascending the throne, he muttered, "In order to restore your memories and make better sense of this incident, I will have to draw in your stone and find them myself," as he moved his hand to hovered over her. Resting his palm on the top of her head, he added, "The host's soul will be pulled into the stone in the process-"

Hearing this, she jerked back and away from his hand, her eyes wide and panicked.

Pulling away, he eyed her curiously. "Is something the matter, child?"

Composing herself, she straightened up and muttered, "I apologize. Apparently she didn't appreciate that revelation. For a moment I lost control."

"She," Father asked as he rubbed his chin, suddenly interested in the one that formerly owned her body. "She still lives _and_ can regain control?"

"Yes. And she used to be the adjunct of Roy Mustang," Wrath explained.

"Used to be,'" Father inquired aloud as his gaze wandered back to the woman.

"Yes," Wrath noted again. "I separated Colonel Mustang from his men. They were getting too… comfortable being together in Central," he added as he saw Pride's eyes dart over to him.

"I see," Father muttered as he sat back in his chair and lowered his hand onto his lap. After studying her for a few moments, he decided, "Having Mustang's adjunct's memories could prove to be beneficial to us at the moment, considering his… candidacy." Looking toward Wrath, he said, "I want you to reassign her under his command once more in order to better watch him. But in addition," he went on as he focused his attention on Pride, "I need you to continue guarding the tunnels that encompass this nation."

"I understand," she murmured as she bowed her head again and closed her eyes. "If that is what I must do, then I will fulfill the tasks assigned to me completely."

Reaching out once again, he placed his hand on her head and closed his eyes. "I will give to you the memories that will be vital for you to complete your task. Do you accept them?"

"I do," Pride muttered.

"Very well then. I shall bestow them upon you now…"

A beat later she gasped and drew back. Then, a small smile crept across her face. Dipping her head in respect, she stepped back and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, child," Father said with a nod of dismissal. Stepping down from the throne, Pride resumed her position next to Wrath. "I would like for you to show her the tunnels, Wrath. After which, I ask that you immediately reassign her under Mustang's command."

"Understood," Wrath replied as he motioned for her to follow.

But before turning away to follow, she stole one last look at Father, which he responded to by matching her glare. Finally she broke the stare and followed after Wrath, the two of them disappearing into the darkness moments later.

"You're really just going to let her go," Greed asked when they had vanished, cocking a brow as he eyed the aged man curiously.

The older blond man nodded thoughtfully. Rubbing his chin, he explained, "It's a gamble, but having the woman's memories intact could keep Colonel Mustang in line. After all, we want to keep our potential sacrifices happy."

Raising a second brow, Greed countered, "You think you can honestly trust Pride at this stage?" Grinning and tapping his forefinger against his temple, he continued, "Because occasionally 'this guy' likes sneaking out from time to time. If that happens, who knows what she'll tell him."

"That's why I decided to forego giving her everything," Father stated bluntly as he leaned back in his chair and began to make himself comfortable. "All she knows at this moment is that the Colonel is of value to us and that the tunnel that runs beneath the country is crucial. As long as she lives by those principles, there will be nothing to worry about.

"But," he continued as he continued to stare at the spot he had last seen the pair, "Her volatility has the possibility of causing issue…" Focusing on Greed, he continued, "Next to Pride, you are the next most formidable with your Ultimate Shield. Should this decision prove to be ruinous," Father said as his face darkened, "I want you to rip out her Philosopher's Stone and return it to me intact."

* * *

"I would like for you to check on Sloth's progress," Wrath said as he and Pride stepped into one of the many tunnels that made up the array.

"So you are issuing orders now," Pride muttered jestingly as the shadows around her feet slowly unwound themselves and began to move down the tunnel in opposite directions.

Electing to ignore the comment, Wrath clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention, waiting. After a few minutes, she finally spoke.

"There's someone else there," she said as she narrowed her eyes. After a few beats, they widened in recognition when she muttered, "The Red Lotus Alchemist-"

* * *

" _Solf J. Kimblee, the Red Lotus Alchemist,"_ a disembodied voice purred as Kimblee's eyes widened in surprise; the sudden voice and pressure that surrounded him instantaneously overwhelming him. When he did not immediately turn around to address it, it continued, _"It's nice to meet you. My name is Pride…"_

* * *

"He must still be pursuing Scar," Wrath mused as he shook his head. "There is no time for that now. He needs to begin carving the crest of blood at Briggs. Sloth has nearly completed digging the tunnel in the North…"

* * *

"What do you want with me," Kimblee asked as his eyes slowly wandered over to his right, trying to catch a glimpse of what had materialized behind him as he calmed his rapidly beating heart.

" _How are things going with Scar,"_ it asked.

"I'm still pursuing him," Kimblee grumbled, his annoyance apparent in his tone.

" _Scar can wait. I have more_ pressing _business for you. You are now to carve the crest of blood into Fort Briggs."_

"With all due respect," Kimblee appealed evenly, "The Briggs troops are stronger and more unified than you realize. That would be no simple task-"

" _Then use their strength and unity against them,"_ it commanded irritably, cutting him off. _"By_ _ **whatever**_ _means necessary._

" _At this moment, Sloth is nearly done digging the tunnel, so the time is_ _ **now**_ _. You must make haste, for the final day is nearly here…"_

* * *

"I've told him," Pride snapped sharply as the shadows around her feet slowly began to recede.

Raising his brows in response, Wrath pressed, "And…?"

"'And' what," she asked as she turned toward him and glared. When he did not respond right away, she searched his expression for a few additional moments before sneering at him. "You doubt me."

"I do not doubt you or your capabilities. Rather, I simply took note of your hesitation when addressing Kimblee," Wrath observed as he took a step in her direction.

Realizing what he was asking, she lost interest in his silent threat and turned away from him, staring down the tunnel and into the darkness. "That 'hesitation' you saw was simply the recalling of a fond memory from Ishval. A memory of a time when that man asked if _she_ ever once, even for a fleeting moment, felt _pride_ in her work. Pride in the fact that she was such a good shot." Looking over her shoulder at him, a faint smile spread across her lips. "I'll let you decide for yourself how she felt."

Frowning at her dawdling, Wrath stated, "There is no room in any of this for 'fond memories.' Recollecting the Lieutenant's memories and getting emotionally involved in anything should not interfere."

Her amused expression quickly slipped away as her face darkened. "Emotions do not exist within me. _You_ of all people should know this."

"I am well aware of the fact," Wrath replied. "But having a _human_ soul that continually fights against you for control will cause issue."

"I assure you," she retorted hardly, "That I have this under control." Pausing as a thought seemingly crossed her mind, she grinned mischievously, "Although, speaking of emotion… I have a meeting I must get to."

* * *

"How's he doin'," Darius asked as Heinkel took a seat across from him.

"Rough," the chimera admitted as he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Doc said we brought him just in time. Said that if he hadn't healed himself to that extent he would have bled out before we got him here."

Darius grunted back in understanding. "So it looks like now all we can do is hope and wait, I guess," he said as he looked toward the closed door that hid the doctor, his wife, and the tiny alchemist behind it.

* * *

 _Breathe in and out… In and out…_

With every few breaths, Edward felt himself fading in and out on consciousness. But every time he came back, a sense of relief would fill his gut.

He was alive. He had done it… He had become a Philosopher's Stone and as a result, sealed his wound shut enough to prevent himself from bleeding out entirely.

 _Breathe in and out… In and out…_

Edward could hear muffled voices around him and strained to make out individual words, but found that he couldn't… He was fading away again. Not yet, not now. He couldn't leave just yet… Alphonse and Winry needed him… He wouldn't let them… Cry for him again…

 _Breathe in…_

Calling what strength had been left behind, he tried desperately to feel that power again… To feel that raw, terrifyingly beautiful power he had felt before.

But alas, he was too weak. As much as he wanted it, needed it; he could not draw upon it. So for now he would focus his attention on clinging to life.

 _Breathe out…_

* * *

Raising his glass to his lips, Roy paused once more to look up at the clock on the wall. It was half past ten. She was late. Extremely late.

Seeing that he had glanced at the clock yet again, the Madame set the stein she was drying down and leaned against the counter. Nodding toward his drink, she said, "Think you should slow down. That's the second one you've had in the past thirty minutes."

Tipping his head back and draining the remaining whiskey from this glass, Roy set it down and muttered, "This _is_ slow."

"What else's eating you," she inquired as she pulled the glass away and set it behind the counter, away from him. "Yeah she's late, but there's something else. Something you aren't telling me." When he didn't immediately respond, she grunted, "I'm going to keep asking until you tell me, Roy-boy, so you might as well cave," as she picked up another cup to dry.

Keeping his face angled toward the clock, Roy's dark and tired eyes wandered over to his adoptive mother's. After studying her and realizing that she wouldn't back down, he finally relented and sighed as he reached up with one hand and hooked it on the collar of his shirt. Tugging it down, he revealed the black and purple marks that wound around his neck.

Christmas's eyes widened as her grip on the glass loosened enough for it to slip from her grasp and crash to the ground. Ignoring the stares of the girls and the few other patrons in the bar, she leaned over the counter to get a closer look. With a sneer, she demanded, "Who did this to you?"

Releasing his hold on his collar, he pulled his hand away and shook his head. "That's the thing. I _don't_ know who did this."

"Explain," she replied shortly, unconvinced.

"I woke up with them-," he began to explain when she cut him off again.

"You don't just get marks like those by sleeping, Roy," she said hardly as she narrowed her eyes. "Tell me what really-"

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as a shadow suddenly loomed over them, Roy whipped his head around to find Riza standing in the doorway, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm sorry I'm late," she atoned as she began to make her way toward them.

"Want anything, sweetheart," the Madame asked as Riza stopped next to the bar, her 'greeting' a little colder than normal.

"No thank you, Madame," Riza replied rigidly as she shook her head. Turning to face Roy, she tried to catch his eye. Moving his eyes to meet hers, he saw that she wore the same apologetic smile she wore when she had appeared moments earlier, but her eyes… They were pained, panicked… Silently screaming for help.

Planting his feet on the ground, Roy raised himself to his feet, his eyes never once wavering from hers. "Let's talk in a more private setting, shall we Lieutenant?"

Nodding earnestly, her eyes darting over to the Madame before returning to him, she agreed, "Yes, let's."

Disregarding his aunt's questioning stare, Roy stiffly placed a hand on Riza's back and guided her toward the back of the bar. When she began to lead herself toward one of the establishment's storage rooms, he took his hand off of her back and slowly eased it into his pocket until he felt them.

She was unbelievably quiet, even for Riza Hawkeye. And despite the fact he was walking behind her, he could still feel a… pressure in the air; a pressure and a feeling that would not let him relax.

Carefully, quietly, he pulled his ignition gloves out of his pocket and slipped them on. When she walked into the storage room and turned around to face him, he raised his hand to her; his fingers poised and ready to snap.

"Now," he growled as she narrowed her eyes dangerously, "Tell me who the hell you are."

* * *

 **A/N:** _And that concludes Chapter 3. I didn't get as much Edward in as I thought I would, though I definitely will next chapter. For the next, expect a confrontation between Pride and Roy, and more Alphonse and May. This will then have a critical deviation from the manga in terms of Kimblee's actions and what ultimately happens to Edward._

 _As a side note, I will be out of the country for two months, so updates will still happen but they will be slow. I will post the status of my stories on my profile page. To those who read it,_ Flame and Steel _is halfway done. I just got caught on a few paragraphs in it._

 _Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows so far!_


	4. Cornered

**A/N:** _Just a reminder that the Homunculi are technically genderless (namely Envy), since they're more of emotional states than anything (hence the reason I refer to Envy as 'it,' especially because of its shape-shifting ability. Also remember that at this point Alphonse thinks Edward will be up at Briggs._

* * *

"Now," Roy growled as she narrowed her eyes dangerously, "Tell me who the hell you are."

For a moment she did not respond, as if mulling over his demand in her mind. Then her face softened as she tilted her head slightly and folded her arms across her chest. "You know who I am," she said as she tried to hide a smirk.

"Liar," Roy retorted hardly as he took a tiny step forward, keeping his gaze locked on hers, silently noting the unusual appearance of her eyes. "You are not Riza Hawkeye." When she raised her brows dubiously, he growled, "And if I had to guess, I'd say you're that shape-shifter Edward and Alphonse have told me about."

Immediately the smirk disappeared and her face darkened. "Don't you _dare_ categorize me with that insignificant worm," she hissed.

Seeing that he struck a nerve in the imposter, he said, "We can play this guessing game all day if you'd like, then. Or," he added as he raised his hand higher, "We could skip the pointless back and forth and get to the point."

Raising a brow, she scoffed and said, "She's right. You are impatient, aren't you?"

"And just who said that?"

Her lips tugged upward at the question. "Your Lieutenant, of course.

"You see, Colonel," she continued as he suddenly felt a light pressure on his arms and legs, "We've already been over introductions. Don't you remember?"

No longer able to keep his glare on her as the pressure became greater, his eyes darted down to his arms and legs, widening as tangible, shadowy tendrils wound their way around him, pushing his hands apart, making it impossible to snap. They were immobilizing him again.

Just like in what he had hoped was only a nightmare.

"You do remember," she said with a self-satisfied smirk as she witnessed his demeanor change. "After all, _Pride_ is impossible to forget."

"What did you do with the Lieutenant," Roy snarled venomously as he struggled against the shadows. "Where is she?!"

"Oh, she's still here," Pride murmured as she raised her hand and placed it over her heart. "Right here, actually."

"What do you-" Roy stopped himself as he suddenly remembered back to when he and Edward had discussed his Xingese friend… Before he headed north.

Their commander… Leader?...' Father'? He had done something to the boy… Put something inside of him.

The other night, what he had thought was a nightmare had actually happened. She… no _it_ – had said that it sought refuge in the closest 'container' it could find.

And the one it had discovered and taken was Riza Hawkeye…

"So you're one of them," he mused as he continued to stare her down, now realizing just how different she really was. It wasn't her blonde hair or fair skin that had changed…. But her eyes. The color of freshly spilt blood. And the way she carried herself was so unlike the Lieutenant. Her posture and stride as she crossed the small room to meet him just was so… arrogant.

Stopping just before him, she raised one of the corners of her lips in a smirk. "So you've been doing your homework, haven't you, Colonel?" Reaching out, she placed a hand on his cheek and slowly ran it down his face.

Reacting to the contact, he tried to distance himself from her by jerking backwards; cutting his cheek on one of the shadows that had run up to replace her hand after she had pulled it away.

Focusing on the droplet of blood that had begun to make its way down his face rather than on his eyes, she mused, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Colonel. These shadows can kill…"

"What the hell do you want," he growled as he jerked away again.

"I want nothing," she replied as her eyes moved up to meet his. "I am simply doing what has been asked of me. And that's to keep an eye on you."

"And why would you need to do that," he snapped, each moment becoming increasingly more disgusted with the situation… and it.

The way it held itself. The way it was pretending that it _was_ her. Holding her and her body captive. Everything about _it_ was repulsive…

"I have my reasons," she replied cryptically. "Although, I must say that you are in no position to be making demands, Colonel."

He scoffed at the comment. "I'll make demands if I want to," he countered. "So here's a demand: Take my body instead." When her eyes flickered up to meet his, he continued, "If it's a body you want, then take mine. Leave the Lieutenant out of this and-"

She emitted a dark chuckle, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You would like that, wouldn't you? The abilities of this stone; the absolute, raw power that it possesses?"

"It's nothing like that," he snapped, to which she responded by raising her brows questioningly. "I could care less about you and your damn shadows. Just release her and let her go."

"Ah, I see how it is," she said at last in understanding. "It makes sense that you would want her back after all of your… 'history.' But, unfortunately, I too want this body; I find it _very_ fitting." Moving forward once more, she stopped just short of him, so close that the toes of their boots were touching, the action causing him to tense. "I love how you react to her," Pride continued after letting loose a brief, dark laugh, "How you writhe and whimper at the thought of your precious Lieutenant becoming a monster… And how pathetically incapable you are of doing anything to protect her and stop all of this."

Placing a hand on his chest and leaning forward, she brushed her cheek past his to whisper in his ear. "The best part about having this body is knowing that one day I _will_ get kill you. And when I do, I will give her this body back just long enough to watch the light fade from your eyes. So once they do and she is bawling over the cold, lifeless shell that was your body, I will rip her soul away and plunge it into the pool of despair and chaos that is my Philosopher's Stone. It will make excellent fuel for my shadows."

Roy tried desperately to think of something, anything, to say, but the words were lost to the storm raging inside his mind.

"Speechless," she asked as she smiled against his ear. "Good." Pulling away, she sneered at him and said, "Should you tell anyone about this, I will ensure that your adoptive mother and your so-called 'sisters' meet a very, very unfortunate fate. And don't try to be a hero by using your precious code to warn your men either. Because if you do so, their blood will be on your hands as well."

He did nothing to reply again; there was no need to. He knew just by looking at her that Pride was more than capable of carrying out her threats. If he so much as flinched without consent, that would be the end of it. Pride would destroy everything he held dear. Never before had he felt so trapped…

Seemingly satisfied by his quiet acceptance of her terms, the shadows that had bound and immobilized him began to loosen and withdraw. When his feet touched the ground once more, she said, "It's getting awfully late, Colonel, and we have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"We," he asked warily, never once taking his eyes off of her as she took another step back.

"Yes," she explained, "'We.' You should be happy to know that Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye has been reassigned under your command once more." When she saw his eyes widen, she added, "So be thankful, be happy. You wanted a reunion, did you not? Well, at the very least _she_ wanted a reunion."

After the last blackened tendril unwound itself from him and drew itself back to her feet, she stepped forward and gestured toward the door. "Like I said, it's getting very late and I'm sure you need your rest. I foresee tomorrow being a very busy day. So… After you, sir."

He hesitated, looking back at her with a glare of suspicion. "You aren't going to stab me in the back, are you," he asked dryly.

Smirking at his sarcasm, she muttered, "Not yet. You're far too valuable to me alive right now."

Turning away, he hesitantly stepped out of the room, trudging back toward the front of his aunt's tavern. A few moments later, he could hear the clicking of Riza's boots as Pride followed after him… three steps behind him as Riza always would.

When he reached the front, he stiffly raised a hand in farewell toward his aunt and one of his 'sisters' at the bar, who quickly exchanged confused glances before making eye contact with him again. Focusing on Christmas's eyes, Roy felt his face soften as he attempted to convey a look of relaxedness and easiness as he made his way over to the door.

Seemingly noting this, his aunt raised a hand as well and grunted, "Have a good night you two."

Before Roy could answer back as he placed his hand on the door handle, he heard Riza's voice mumble, "And you as well, Madame," her tone dripping in annoyance.

"Yes, have a good night, and take care," he added lightly as he pushed to door open, holding it there so Pride could slip outside before him. And before he stepped out after her, he shot his aunt one last look before walking out.

When the door swung shut behind him, Pride turned back around and shot him a glare. "I saw that," she stated bluntly.

Glaring back, he briefly noted that her eyes had returned to their normal brown hue, signaling to him that his aunt most likely did not notice this change. Feeling increasingly bitter the longer he stared, he defiantly asked, "Saw what?"

She narrowed her eyes further and growled, "I suggest you remember your place, _sir._ "

When she took a step toward him, the shadows at her feet extending toward him, Roy stalled by stretching his arms above his head and pseudo-yawning in jest, saying, "Like you said; it's getting late. If I have nearly as much work as you claim, I'd better get going now to get some rest."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadows that had begun to move in recede and draw back. With an irritated scoff and a fake smile in reply, she said, "You're right, Colonel. So nice of you to remember for me." Taking a step in the direction of Riza's apartment, she said, "I'll see you tomorrow, sir, and remember," she added ominously, "I'll be watching…" And with that she turned on her heels, heading into the darkness.

He watched after her for a few minutes, until he was sure he heard her footsteps disappear. Letting out the breath he had held for so long, he slowly raised his hands from his sides and looked down at them, seeing that they were _still_ trembling.

* * *

The siege had lasted mere minutes, but already Kimblee could already see signs that Fort Briggs was about to attack… And obliterate the Drachmen army that surrounded him. Frowning, he thought back to what Pride had told him: to complete this by _whatever_ means necessary.

Turning to the general beside him, Kimblee commanded, "Tell them to aim higher, _above_ the wall."

"And waste our precious ammunition," the general spat. "Not a chance!"

"You are clearly an incompetent strategist," Kimblee replied hardly, his frown deepening. "If you want to be successful, you need to attack their weakness."

"How the hell is the other side of the wall a weak point," the Drachman general argued back. "We need to get through them, not-"

"Listen well because I will only say this once," Kimblee interjected, his voice dripping with annoyance. "In order to make an impact, you attack the heart, the weakness of your enemy. And in this instance, what is the weakest part of Amestris? Surely it is not the Northern Fortress, so then it must be…?" He paused, waiting for the general to answer.

As a few of the cannons around him continued to fire, a sickening smile spread across the general's face. "Amestris's weakness… is its people."

* * *

"Where is my artillery squad," Captain Buccaneer bellowed over the cacophony and yelling of the Briggs soldiers as they scrambled to right themselves and fight back. "Has the eastern gate been secured?"

"Sir," a windless soldier gasped as he came to a halt before Captain Buccaneer, "They-they've begun to fire _over_ the wall!"

"Over the wall," the Captain echoed back in disbelief.

"Yes, sir. The resulting explosions have already caused a massive avalanche that has begun to make its way down the mountain-"

"Have the residents of Bahntown been notified," he ordered as he took a step toward the winded soldier.

"Y-yes, sir," he replied with a hasty salute. "They're beginning evacuative measures now."

"Good," the mountain of a man growled as he pushed past the soldier and toward a group of men that needed assistance with their artillery, the cart they were pulling the shells around on having tipped over amidst the panic.

Just as the nameless man was about to return back to his post, a Private from the boiler rooms ran up to him and skidded to a stop just before him. Raising a salute, he breathlessly asked, "Permission to question, sir!"

"Granted," the soldier quipped back.

Dropping his salute, the look on his face desperate, the younger Private said, "Sir, what exactly is going on? We heard that Drachma is attacking, but to what extent?"

Hearing his name being called out, the soldier turned on his heels and began making his way toward the person calling him, this matter more urgent than the Private's questions. Suddenly, he felt a hand reach out and grab his shoulder. Twisting around, he saw that the Private had gripped him tightly, his eyes widened and fearful. "Please, sir, I heard Bahntown mentioned and… And my wife and child… They're there now. Please…"

Holding the young Private's glance for only a brief moment, the seasoned soldier turned away and muttered, "We've called for the evacuation of Bahntown, because at this very moment, Drachma is directly attacking Amestris."

* * *

"You can't be serious," Heinkel growled in disbelief.

"You heard the radio," the doctor argued. "If those Drachmens get over Fort Briggs, this country is going to war. They're already taken out one village with an avalance and they haven't even gotten over the wall yet!"

"With all due respect, sir, Fort Briggs is-"

"Even the fortress of the North has the potential to fall," the doctor cut him off. "I just…" He said as he took a deep breath in order to calm himself down, "Would feel more comfortable if I got half of my payment now."

"But sir," Heinkel tried to appeal to him, "You can't abandon a patient! The kid's-"

"I have no intention of abandoning or turning away the young man," the doctor explained. "I just need some… insurance, per say."

Just as Heinkel was about to fire back, Darius lumbered into the room and held up the paperwork and pocket watch that was in his hand. "It was difficult getting his signature for his," he began, a hint of disgust in his voice, "But I finally managed to get him to sign."

"So you're going then," Heinkel asked as he raised his brows and looked toward his friend.

"We don't have another choice," Darius muttered as his eyes wandered over to the doctor, who stood innocently beside Heinkel. "We need to do whatever it takes to make sure the kid comes out of this in one piece."

Heinkel finally nodded in agreement. "Just make sure you aren't followed." Turning back to the doctor, he added, "And it something happens and they come after us, you're coming with us when we run." The doctor acknowledged the comment and muttered that he would, though it was clear he was reluctant. Taking that for what it was, Heinkel looked back toward his friend and nodded once more, signaling to Darius that it was okay to commence.

Throwing them one last look, Darius collected the objects in his hand again and trudged over to the door, disappearing outside moments later.

When they were sure he was gone, Heinkel turned back to the doctor and growled, "If you try anything funny after we give you this payment, I will personally guarantee that won't come out of this in one piece.

Laughing nervously at the comment, the doctor wiped his brow and muttered, "Wouldn't dream of it. But now, I really must get back to my patient."

* * *

"Okay, Zampano. We guarantee your safety," Envy said as it grinned into the phone pressed to its ear. After listening for a few additional moments, it cackled as it added, "How many times have I told you. I'm gonna have some fun!"

Wrath could hear the chimera give a few more details to the Homunculus seated on his desk, so eagerly nodded and hummed a quick reply with every pause. At last, Envy let loose one final laugh before telling Zampano it would be on the next train to the North, and then promptly hung up. Throwing a grin over its shoulder to its 'brother,' Envy announced, "Well, I'm off," as it slid off the desk.

Wrath nodded thoughtfully. "Just be sure you finish the job."

Raising its brows and grinning, Envy replied, "Oh, I'll finish the job alright. I mean, I wasted Colonel Mustang's precious friend after all. How hard could it possibly be killing Marcoh?"

"Don't underestimate him and his abilities," Wrath warned. "The very last thing we need is for you to get killed."

Envy snorted, "Yeah, or worse; I could end up having to resort to body-snatching a worthless, pathetic human," it added as it wrinkled its nose disgustedly.

"But if that assures you remain alive and functioning for your mission, then that fate is far better than being destroyed," Wrath noted, realizing what Envy was getting at.

The Homunculus scoffed and muttered, "I'd rather _die_ than be trapped in a human's body… especially one like that."

Wrath folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "We've managed to make Pride's predicament work in our favor, however. Having her watch Mustang and keep him on a tight leash is the best thing we could do given the circumstances."

"Eh, true," Envy agreed as it shrugged its shoulders. Then, after seemingly having another thought cross its mind, it grinned. "And it _is_ very serendipitous… losing both his best friend _and_ his girlfriend!" When Wrath raised a brow incredulously, Envy snorted and said, "C'mon, their relationship is the biggest debated topic in military command. You should hear the rumors that circulate when their hands so much as brush."

With a sign, Wrath shook his head. "Focus on the mission, Envy. Now's not the time to gossip about the colonel and what may or may not be happening between him and his lieutenant."

Envy shrugged again and said, "Hey, just giving you some more ammunition is all." With a quick wave, it then turned and began to make its way toward the door. "I'm off then. I've got a train to-"

Before it could finish its sentence, a loud knock on the Fuhrer's door interrupted it. As the door opened, Envy showered itself in a spurt of red sparks and took the form of a generic soldier, quickly turning and standing at attention toward Wrath.

"Pardon me, sir," the intruding soldier apologized as he entered the room, a stack of documents hugged to his chest, "But I just received a report regarding the most up to date status of the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"And…" Fuhrer Bradley began, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

Looking down at the top page of the stack of papers, the soldier read, "It says here that a large sum of money was withdrawn from his account early this morning and-"

"Bring those over to me, would you Lieutenant," the Fuhrer asked as he beckoned the soldier forward.

Hurrying past Envy and up to the desk, the soldier handed over the documents to the Fuhrer, who took them and began skimming them. Leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he muttered, without looking up, "That will be all, soldier. Thank you."

Saluting to the dismissal, the Lieutenant acknowledged the command and bid the Fuhrer a 'good day,' before hurriedly exiting the room and closing the door.

After reading over the documents for a few moments, Wrath set them on the desk and focused his eye on Envy, who had decided to remain disguised in its current form. "Would you be interested in a change of plans, Envy?"

Understanding what Wrath was getting at, a wicked smile played across Envy's lips as it said, "Of course. I haven't visited the pipsqueak in a while."

* * *

"Good morning, sir."

Roy's head shot up upon hearing her voice.

Standing in the doorway and smiling sadly toward him, Riza noted, "You're here before me… That's a first," as she slid the strap of her bag off of her shoulder. He noted that her eyes flickered up to the scratch on his face that had already begun to scab before they returned to find his.

Seeing that it was Riza he was talking to, Roy relaxed and returned her gloomy smile. "Couldn't sleep much," he admitted. "I figured I'd take advantage of my wakefulness and try to get some work done." In actuality he had never made it home after what had happened last night. He had been too awake, his mind racing too much for him to sleep. Immediately after he lost sight of her, he made his way directly back to Headquarters… and had been there ever since.

"I understand," she said as she made her way over to her old desk and set her bag atop it, turning away from him as she did so.

After a few moments of a drawn out, awkward silence, Roy cleared his throat and asked, "How are you doing?" It felt like such an odd and out of place question for him to ask, but knowing that right now this was her and not _it_ … He just… He just needed to know.

"I'm… alright," she finally said without turning back to face him, keeping her gaze down and on the desktop. "I'm coping." With that she grabbed what she needed from her bag and circled around her desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down on it, her gaze still focused on anything but him.

He waited for a few moments, hoping, praying that she would say something more. When she didn't, however, he realized that he didn't have any words in him either. Because what could he possibly say to her…?

Unsure of what else he could possibly add and knowing full well that she would say nothing more, he allowed her to begin with her work uninterrupted. The only sound heard was their pens tapping and scribbling against the papers in front of them for the next otherwise silent minutes.

Then, he heard her chair scrape against the floor as she pushed it out from her desk and got to her feet. Before looking up to see her, Roy opted to finish the last bit of his signature for the page he was working on. Just as he did, however, she was already in front of his desk.

Clapping her hands down on it, she leaned forward as he looked up at her… And into the eyes of Pride.

"Alright, I gave you two a little reunion, but now it's time to work," she said as she narrowed her eyes.

Keeping his ruthless glare fixated on red eyes, he retorted dryly, "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Something that can wait," she replied hardly. "I'm talking about field work. And what better place to go than to Liore?"

"Liore," Roy repeated back questioningly. "What business would you have in Liore?"

"I've received information that suggests Van Hohenheim is there. _You_ are going to accompany me," she said commandingly.

"Any why the hell would I do that," he shot back as he picked up his pen again. Looking back down at his papers, he growled, "If you want to go so badly, go yourself."

"I suppose I could," she mused as she slid her hands off the desk and stepped back. "Although," she said, a slightly bitter tinge in her words, "The last time I encountered Van Hohenheim he tore my body apart and I was forced to flee and seek refuge in hers.

"So I _could_ always go alone," she continued, her tone changing to one of boredom. "After all, once he destroys this one I will simply find another container to occupy. She is disposable to me."

Upon hearing that, he immediately dropped his pen and jumped to his feet, slamming his hands down on his desk. Leaning forward, he growled venomously, "If you _ever_ say that again, I will ensure that the moment you are freed I _will_ burn you."

"Oh, I like this anger, this _wrath_ ," she replied without flinching at his outburst. Following suit and once again planting her hands on the desk, she bowed forward challengingly and smirked at him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that _you_ were Wrath. You're certainly more capable of it than he."

Narrowing his eyes, Roy growled, "Don't change the subject, _Homunculus_."

"Simply stating what I, and she, know," Pride answered with an almost innocent tone. "But now that we've addressed the fact that the Lieutenant is as expendable as a dog, I'll need an answer from you."

Leaning back and standing straight, Roy clasped his hands behind his back, hoping to convey indifference to it, despite the fact that inside he was screaming. It essentially had him wrapped around its finger. If he refused to listen to it, it would destroy everything. His family, his men, his Lieutenant… Everything… "If you want an answer, then my answer is yes," he said at long last. "I will take it upon myself to ensure that the Lieutenant's body remains intact." Keeping his eyes focused on Pride's, he added, "And I will guarantee that she is returned in one piece."

The corners of her lips curled upward at the acceptance of her proposal... and his seemingly laughable comment. "Oh... We'll see about that."

* * *

When Zampano came back alone, they knew something was wrong.

Dr. Marcoh approached the chimera and shot him a questioning glance. "Did something happen?"

Zampano shook his head. "He never showed up. Checked the ticket counter and they said that the name Envy had provided did have a ticket accompanying it, but it was never picked up."

"This is a bit unsettling," Marcoh muttered as he rubbed his chin. "Is it possible it caught on?"

"And if so, what are the chances Envy will bring reinforcements," Jerso asked worriedly. "We aren't in a position to fight. Envy we can handle, but we aren't prepared for more."

"You're right," Marcoh answered with a nod. "And now they know our location…"

* * *

"Do you see that," May said as she pointed toward the small group gathered a ways ahead of their hiding spot. "Zampano came back without Envy."

The suit of armor next to her nodded gravely and said, "This isn't good."

"Yeah," May agreed as she continued to watch the adults chat, but did not make a move to wander over toward them.

Turning toward her, Alphonse's soul-fire eyes flickered about, scanning her as he gathered his thoughts and his plan. At last, after she had watched the group for a while longer, he said, "May, it doesn't look like Envy's coming. And because they now know our location and might possibly bring something we aren't prepared for, I think… I think it's best we leave." Without turning to him, May nodded in agreement, though her eyes remained forward, so he continued. "And I think that it's best you go back to Xing-"

At that her head snapped around, large, dark eyes narrowed at the suit of armor. "What?! Absolutely not," she cried.

Taken aback by this outburst, Alphonse tried his best to appeal to her. "May, listen, I don't want you to get hurt and-"

"No," she said as she furiously shook her head. "There's no way I'm leaving, Mr. Alphonse."

"You've done enough already, May! I just don't want to see you getting hurt. You've already gotten yourself too deep into our country's politics when you should be focusing on the problems in your country-"

"Alphonse, stop!"

The suit of armor immediately quieted upon hearing his name, soul-fire eyes widened and staring at the small girl that had risen to her feet before him.

When she saw that she had his undivided attention, May cleared her throat and said, "Mr. Alphonse, I'm kindly asking that you refrain from making such statements again." He moved to say something, but she interrupted him again, her face and voice softening. "I understand your concern, but please, _please_ understand that this isn't something I can just walk away from now." Smiling up at him, she continued, "This is bigger than Amestris now, Mr. Alphonse. If what we think is going to happen will happen, then the entire world is in danger. And it's because of that that I cannot go now. You need all the help you can get."

"May," Alphonse murmured quietly as he watched her, watched the determination take over her features. But before he could say anything again, he was quieted once more when she shook her head again.

"So, Mr. Alphonse, what's the plan?"

Realizing full well that after saying what she had just said, there would be no way of changing her mind. And if that was the case, then they needed to prepare. "Well," he began slowly as the pieces began to fall into place in his head, "We can't stay here any longer. They know our location now and we aren't prepared for whatever else they could be planning." When she nodded in agreement, he continued, "Our best bet is to leave. We can't go to Fort Briggs to meet up with Brother because Kimblee is there, so we have to try somewhere else."

"Do you have a place in mind," May said as she took a step toward him, balling her hands into fists.

"Actually," he said as the thought came to him, "I do." As she watched him, eagerly anticipating his response, he said, "There's a town that I've wanted to return to for a while now. I think that we will be safe there."

"What's the town called," May asked as she turned her head slightly, at the same time noticing that the adults had begun making their way toward them.

"The town," Alphonse said, drawing her attention back to him once more, "Is named Liore."

* * *

Slowly coming back to consciousness, Edward moaned deeply as his wounds began to ache again, the pain medication that was circulating through his veins having worn off hours ago. Realizing he was sitting up and leaning against a wall, he fought against his body's desire to sleep and willed himself to open his eyes.

Blinking wearily, he tried to make sense of the concrete and darkness around him, his surroundings completely different than what he had fallen asleep to. Straining to hear, he tried fruitlessly to listen for Heinkel, Darius, or even the doctor's voices. All he heard, however, was the sound of water dripping off of a broken pipe onto the cold, hard floor. When he tried to move, his head, feeling heavy and weighted, rolled to his right. That was when he noticed his automail arm was removed and missing…

"Hey, pipsqueak."

Immediately recognizing the voice, Edward's head lolled up and rested against the wall that supported him, his tired, golden eyes slowly wandering up to and meeting the eyes of the Homunculus, Envy.

Smirking triumphantly, it grinned devilishly and said, "So nice of you to drop by."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Wow! It's already been about a month since the last update. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and didn't think it was too rushed!_

 _I'm not sure when the next update will be out; it depends on how my research is going since I'm still abroad. Plus, I'll be out traveling a lot, so while the story will be playing in the back of my mind, it isn't going to be my main focus. I'll try to get to it when I have downtime though, since it's pretty much plotted out in my head._

 _Again, hope you enjoyed! See you next chapter! (And thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'll try to get back to consistently answering to reviews.) Thank you!_


	5. Hate

Two hours into the train ride and already Roy wanted off. The ride had instantly grown awkward, the two of them sitting in silence, Pride resting her elbow on the ledge by the window, her chin in her hand as she stared at the passing landscape while he chose to stare down the train corridor the entire time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shift. Turning his focus to her, he saw her eyes wander over to him, reflecting brown at that very moment, most likely to avoid unwelcomed and questioning guesses from the train's other occupants. Seeing them, seeing _her_ caused his stomach to do a flip. Was it really-?

Then the all-too-common smirk he had grown to increasingly despise spread across her face. Disgusted by this display, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. No sooner had he done that, a low growl from his stomach drew her attention to him. He watched as her eyes narrowed amusedly as he uncrossed his arms and grabbed the small paper bag he had sitting next to him on his seat.

Ignoring her, he produced two sandwiches from the bag, placing one on his knee while setting the other in front of her. "We should probably eat," he mumbled in response to her stare as he reached for his sandwich, "Seeing that we were pulled away from our work so abruptly."

Before he took a bite of his it, he realized that she hadn't even attempted to reach for hers. Glancing up at her, he muttered, "Aren't you going to eat?"

Her eyes wandered down to the sandwich in question, and then back up him. Raising a brow, she scoffed and replied, "There's no need to," just as he heard a small growl escape her stomach.

Casting her a dubious glare, he stated, "What do you mean 'there's no need to?' Obviously you're hungry; I could probably hear your stomach from a mile away."

"What I mean by that is _I_ have no need to eat. She, on the other hand, does," she replied matter-of-factly.

"You're speaking in riddles," Roy responded dryly. "Just get to the point."

With a smirk, she stated, "Because I possess a Philosopher's Stone, I am able to regenerate so long as I have an energy reserve." Roy's eyes narrowed at the crude comparison of souls to 'energy,' the action seemingly fueling her pleasure in telling him this fact. "This is an absolute truth you are all too familiar with, right, Flame Alchemist?"

He narrowed his eyes with distaste. Of course she would bring up the battle with Lust. How could he forget? It had taken a lot to destroy her, barely finishing her off before she impaled his skull with her spear-like fingers. And seeing this Homunculus before him, the original and deadliest of sins, he couldn't help but wonder how many souls it contained…

"So," she continued, drawing him once again from his thoughts, "I can choose to forego eating and simply allow the energies of the souls within me to be burned off; make them be worth something. Although I must note," she added as the corner of her lip twitched upward, " _She_ can still feel it."

Struck by this realization that it was deliberately and happily causing her to suffer, Roy's stomach dropped, feeling appalled and disgusted by its behavior. "Eat," he demanded with a low growl as he shoved the sandwich in his hand toward her. "Now."

She cocked a brow as her eyes moved down to look at the food in his hand. When they flickered back up to watch him, she said, "Demanding too, I see. Honestly," she muttered with boredom, "I don't know what she sees in you."

Ignoring the fact that it was trying its very best to agitate him and get him off its case, he shoved the sandwich forward until it was practically at Riza's lips. "Eat this or I won't play as your bodyguard anymore."

Reaching up and grasping it, she took it from him and held it away from her face. Narrowing her eyes at him, Pride said, "Your argument is flawed. You say you want to protect the woman, yet you're so willing to abandon her body."

He refused to back down, keeping his focus on her even and unwavering. "And I know that you're desperate to make sure you don't die. I could see it in your eyes, Pride; you're afraid of this 'Van Hohenheim' character. So much, in fact, that you were desperate enough to 'allow' me to tag along with you. If that doesn't scream desperation, then I don't know what does.

"Plus," he added, "You said you want to keep an eye on me. There is nothing that would make your hostage happier and more compliant than giving in to his demands every now and then."

Her brows rose as she eyed him, crimson eyes flickering about as she read his face. Then, she scoffed and held the food to her lips. "I suppose you're right, in one aspect. After all, I can't use up too many of my souls for menial reasons. I have to keep my strength up… and hers."

Roy swallowed thickly at the mention of 'her.' Riza. As he watched her take a small bite of the sandwich, he asked, praying that his voice would come out as strong as he hoped it would. "Will I be able to speak to her soon?"

Red eyes darted back over to him as she mulled over the idea. After swallowing the bit of sandwich she had bitten off, she grinned mischievously and said, "Perhaps sometime soon… But not now." Obviously seeing the disappointment on his face, she added, "You don't seem to have issue talking to me, however. I might even venture to say that you enjoy it; I'm keeping you on your toes."

"'Enjoy' is a bit too strong a word," Roy retorted dryly upon realizing that he wouldn't talk to Riza soon. "I like to think of it as more of a necessary evil."

She hummed in reply and said, "And yet you've become quite accustomed to referring to me by name."

Seeing again that she was trying to push his buttons, he turned his glare elsewhere; toward the window. Watching the trees and landscape fly by, he muttered, "That's because you're not her."

Pride didn't respond immediately, perhaps unable to come up with a snappy response. Then, however, she finally spoke and said, "That's because I'm better."

He had expected a self-satisfied smirk when he turned back to her, but instead he saw that she wore a serious expression.

Seeing that he was eyeing her warily, she stated, "I don't get why you don't understand it. Your lives are fleeting, passing by in a second in the grand scheme of things. Having me inhabit her body is a gift; it's the closest thing to immortality one could possess."

The revelation struck Roy as unusual… and absurd. Immortality was something that Riza never wanted… never _craved_. Why would it assume such a thing?

As if the Homunculus read his mind, she added, "She doesn't want immortality if that's what you wanted to know. But I'm trying to convince her otherwise."

"Why," Roy demanded a little more loudly than he intended to, eliciting stares from the few occupants that were seated on the opposite of the train car from them.

Her serious expression melted away to one of curiosity and confusion. "Why," she echoed back. "Because what's the point of living only to die so quickly. You are born, you live, you grow old, and then you die, only to have your body rot and decay. In the blink of an eye your lives are over. So if you are given the opportunity to achieve immortality, you should grasp it." The smirk he had grown to despise returning, she finished by again saying, "My presence is a gift."

"No it isn't," Roy growled, unable to keep himself in check any longer. "Your presence is parasitic." When she raised her brows in surprise, he continued, seething, "You survive by hiding behind the mask of another person, feeding off of her life and the souls of others and existing because _she_ lives. You are nothing more than a leech."

Seemingly unfazed by his harsh words, she mockingly asked, "Oh, is that what you think," as she smirked. But before he could continue further, she turned her gaze back toward the window, setting the sandwich in her hand down on the table. Crimson eyes watched him out of her peripheral vision, narrowed and calculating.

And as they watched each other, Roy felt a new emotion come over him entirely.

Despite the fact that it was Riza's face he was looking at, he couldn't help but associate it with this newfound feeling. Looking at her, _seeing her_ , caused his entirety to be filled with _**hate**_ _._

* * *

"Where the hell am I… You bastard," Edward panted as he looked up and into sharp purple eyes and a widened grin.

"Why, you're back where you were before, pipsqueak," Envy purred as it crouched down in front of Edward and smirked. "Don't you recognize this place?" Looking past Envy, Edward realized that his eyes had become slightly accustomed to the darkness, now seeing that his surroundings were indeed familiar. "You're beneath Central Command," Envy explained, forcing Edward's tired eyes to wander back over to him.

"What'do you want with me," he slurred back as he blinked slowly, realizing that the medication hadn't worn off completely.

"We just need to keep an eye on you, pipsqueak. It's best we do it in the comfort of our own home too," Envy replied as it raised its right hand. As Edward watched it, Envy used its index finger and thumb to flick the golden-haired boy in the forehead, startling him. Delighted by this, the Homunculus chuckled.

Narrowing his eyes, Edward growled, "We'll see who's laughing when I bust out of here."

Letting loose a low whistle to express feigned surprise, Envy got to its feet and said, "I'd love to see you try, but you're looking a little ill-equipped at the moment."

Huffing and struggling to keep himself focused, Edward willed his head to turn again toward his empty shoulder port while attempting to move his left hand. Upon hearing the sound of chains dragging on the floor, he realized that the reason why his arm felt heavy was because it was chained to the wall. As Envy laughed, Edward began to formulate a plan in his mind for escape.

Apparently sensing this determination, Envy abruptly stopped, its face growing serious. "I wouldn't think of an escape plan if I were you." Thrusting its thumb over its shoulder, Envy said, "And _they'll_ make sure you don't."

Furrowing his brow, Edward looked past the Homunculus and squinted into the darkness, able to make out a few shapes that were moving.

Turning to look at the shapes Edward's eyes were fixed on, Envy stuck its finger and thumb in its mouth and whistled loudly, causing the shadows to lift their heads and lumber forward.

When they stepped into the light, Edward could do nothing more than gasp and stare in horror as two of the shapes that trudged into the light became recognizable.

Heinkel and Darius…

"H-hey," he protested weakly, "What're you two-"

"Oh, they can't hear you," Envy replied with an almost bored tone as it placed its hands on its hips. "You could say that their minds are elsewhere, though."

His eyes remaining on his two 'friends,' Edward observed the two of them staring him down, panting and huffing loudly, the whites in their eyes being the only things he could perceive and see.

"Hey," Edward tried again, though he was cut off by Heinkel stepping forward, his lips drawn back and his teeth bared, a low growl resonating through the air around him. He instinctively pushed himself back and closer to the wall than he already was.

"Hey," Envy snapped, drawing the chimera's attention away from Edward, "You're only allowed to kill him if he tries to get away."

Lowering his head submissively, the lion chimera slunk backwards and away from Envy.

Taking this as the opportunity to draw as much information as he could from the Homunculus, Edward demanded, "What did you do to them?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, squirt," it replied with a massive grin. "Telling you would spoil all the fun. But," it said as it raised its finger, "I will tell you that their souls are no longer their own."

Edward's thoughts instantly went to Alphonse, Barry, the Slicer Brothers… Were they taken? Stuffed into another body? Or… Edward's eyes widened with the possible realization that crossed his mind. Were they taken by a Philosopher's Stone?

Envy's cackle brought him back to his senses. "I'll leave you alone now to mull over it and your time here, pipsqueak, because right now I've got bigger fish to fry." Turning on its heels, it brushed past the chimera and began to head into the darkness. But before it disappeared completely, Envy shouted one final warning over its shoulder, "Make sure you don't get bitten by them. You don't know what they've been chewing on!"

Returning his focus to the chimera as Envy's cackles died off, he watched as they stepped further away from him and began stalking back and forth, their white, soulless eyes never leaving him.

Now, he could only wonder, how the hell was he going to get out of this one...?

* * *

After arriving at the train station in Liore, Pride was quick to get off the train, followed closely by Roy. Weaving effortlessly through the crowd as its occupants milled around them, Pride immediately took a sharp right and stepped off the cement slab that was the station's platform, taking a moment to stop and observe the city. When Roy stopped beside her, he heard her grumble, "This pathetic excuse for a city is what's housing Van Hohenheim?"

"You do realize that they've just come out of a revolution, right," Roy replied to her rhetorical question, making his annoyance clear. "This city has been rebuilding itself ever since the Elric brothers dethroned the priest that had taken over here."

"Oh," she said as she cast her gaze in his direction, "I know."

It took every ounce of his self-discipline to not retort back crudely, but he knew that she was just trying to get under his skin, and it was working… Instead, he opted to take a step forward and survey the city as well.

He hadn't been out there since the revolution started and, while the city was still a mess, he could see people actively working on buildings, roadways, and homes. It was refreshing to see something good come out of all of the tragedy that had befallen them before…

The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel pavement drew him from his thoughts. Turning his head, he saw Pride stalking off, hands militantly grasped behind her back as she continued to scan the area.

Following after her, Roy fell into step beside her and shot her a quizzical look. She was walking and scanning the area with her eyes, and yet, seemed to be looking through everything. Craning his head around to survey what she was looking at, he noticed that some of the townspeople were shooting them wary glances. They were fortunate, he supposed, that they had decided to wear civilian clothing, seeing that the town was fairly distrustful of the military after it occupied them during the first few weeks of the revolution.

When they walked past a food stand, she stopped and looked up at the radio perched atop the awning as it chimed, signaling a special announcement.

" _The search continues for the Fuhrer's son, Selim Bradley. On the 15_ _th_ _of October, young Selim vanished from his home between the hours of 10pm and 12am with little trace. If there is anyone out there with any information, please contact Central Military Command."_

After a brief pause, the voice continued, _"And here today we have First Lady Bradley, who has a special announcement for anyone that has any information regarding young Master Selim."_

They heard a burst of static resulting from the microphone being handled and handed over. After a few additional moments of it fumbling around, a woman's voice came on the radio, her voice shaking, _"Th-thank you sir for a-allowing me this opportunity to s-speak-speak."_

He heard Pride shift next to him, folding her arms across her chest as she moved her weight from one leg to the other.

" _P-please,_ " Mrs. Bradley begged, _"P-please bring-bring m-my son back. I'll-I'll,"_ she stopped unable to continue as she began to sob into the microphone.

Roy heard it quickly change hands, but didn't hear what was said by the announcer as Pride had seemingly lost interest and had begun walking off in a separate direction. Following after her, Roy waited until they were a reasonable distance away from anyone before saying, "I'm guessing you had something to do with that, right?"

Her eyes, taking back their red appearance, perceived him in her peripheral vision, taking him in as she considered his question. When they had turned a corner into an alley, she finally said, "That woman was incredibly pathetic," avoiding his question altogether.

By that point they had made it halfway down the alley, but Roy refused to go further, stopping in his tracks. When she turned around to look at him, he narrowed his eyes toward her and said through gritted teeth, "How could you say such a thing? That woman lost her child and-"

"That 'child' wasn't lost," she said agitatedly as she folded her arms across her chest. "He was destroyed."

"Destroyed," Roy echoed back as his eyes widened in realization. "So you do know what happened to him?"

"Of course I do," she responded. "After all, the child _had_ been my container for nearly four-hundred years."

"You mean," Roy began, "That every state dinner, every military event that Selim Bradley attended… He… He was _you_?"

The smirk returned to her face, the corners of her lips curling upward. "That's right. Although _'he'_ was merely a shell, just as Riza Hawkeye is mine right now." She took a step toward him, forcing Roy to subconsciously take one backwards. He could see the amusement flickering in her eyes, drinking in his disbelief. "You see, Roy, I am an entity; a creature of no gender, no emotion. Nothing besides pride-"

"And arrogance," Roy replied hardly, trying his best to keep calm, despite the pressure in the air that seemed to be threatening to crush him at any moment.

She raised a brow as she took another step forward. "I am not Selim Bradley or Riza Hawkeye."

Another step forward.

"I am the shadows that lie at your feet as you helplessly tremble and whimper for fear of the dark."

The distance between them was becoming increasingly smaller.

"I am the darkness that clouds your mind."

They were mere feet from each other now.

"I am Arrogance."

One more step and they were within arm's length.

"And I _am_ Pride."

Just as she began to take a step forward, a blast of red sparks separated the pair, the ground beneath their feet shifting and cracking, forcing the two of them apart.

Stumbling backwards, Roy instinctively reached into his pocket and felt the rough cloth of his ignition gloves against the tips of his fingers. Grasping them, he pulled them out of his pocket as his back slammed into the wall behind him. Looking up, he saw that Pride was standing, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched; staring at the intruder that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Slipping his gloves on over his hands, he watched as the man, tall and blond, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, looked down the bridge of his nose at the blonde woman.

"I thought I sensed you, _Homunculus_ ," he said, his voice deep and rough. "And it seems that you've found yourself a new container."

"And you must be Van Hohenheim," she muttered, as the shadows around her feet began to unravel and come alive.

The man did not flinch or waver, keeping his focused gaze on Pride, his face remaining impassive and stern. "Sir."

Surprised by the man's sudden addressing of him, Roy's attention was immediately drawn back to him.

"If you want to live," he continued, "I recommend that you come over this way."

Narrowing his eyes, Roy blatantly asked, "And what do you plan on doing, exactly?"

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the blond-haired man said, "I plan on doing nothing." Nodding toward Pride, he added, "I'm more concerned about what she was about to do to you."

"I think you should focus more on yourself than on him," she warned, her lips turning upward in a small smile.

"Have you come all this way just to destroy me," the man asked, still without showing signs of fear or hesitance.

She pursed her lips together for a moment, considering his question. Then she shrugged her shoulders up and down as the shadows slowly wandered toward him, winding up his legs and arms. "You could say that, I suppose. Or," she continued as they slowly dragged them forward and toward her, "You could also say that I have come to thank you for giving me this new body."

Unfazed by this display of aggression and power, he willingly followed the shadows back to her, staring critically down at her over the rims of his glasses. "I am warning you," he cautioned her, "That I am not a fighter. However, if you test me, I will fight back."

"Then test you I will," she purred as he came to a stop in front of him. Then, without warning or any sign of imminent attack, one of the spear-like shadows pierced the man's chest, running itself straight through his heart.

The man gasped and sputtered as a spurt of blood burst from his chest in conjunction with the beating of his heart. Slowly bowing forward, he choked in anguish and then, seemingly, took his final breath as his body went limp.

Too appalled, too stunned to even move or yell, Roy watched as a victorious smile played across her lips, cold eyes focused on her prey as if she had completely forgotten that he was still there. "Now," she murmured, "Time to find his Stone," as she shadows continued to snake around the man.

She stopped, however, as her eyes widened in surprise, then horror. "Where-where is-"

Then the seemingly dead man's head snapped up, his arm flying up in an astounding display of speed. Wrapping his fingers tightly around her neck, red sparks dancing around his fingers, he growled, "Now it's my turn, _Homunculus._ "

* * *

 **A/N:** _Whoo! Another update so soon! I've just been on a wording roll lately… Anyways, next chapter expect Al and May to make an appearance, as well as more from Edward, and maybe even General Armstrong!_

 _And to everyone asking/noticing; yes, I am changing everything, so be prepared :)_

 _Thanks for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! I'll be getting to them all tonight and tomorrow (I've just been on such a writing streak lately…)_


	6. Fear

**A/N:** _ **Disclaimer:**_ _I promise everything will be okay! And P.S. What Roy does is a_ _ **scare tactic**_ _ **only**_ _. I hope that I have done the characters justice. If not, I may take it down and rewrite the chapter. I like it one minute, but hate it the next._

* * *

In that moment, Roy saw one thing in Pride's eyes that he never thought he would see: Fear.

It was as if his world had slowed to a snail's pace, watching as the sparks flitted and moved around the stranger's fingers, the words he spoke ringing loudly in Roy's ears. It was 'his turn.'

He was going to destroy her. Destroy _Riza._

Without another thought or display of hesitance, Roy raised his right hand and snapped, sending a shockwave of alchemical energy in the direction of the man. The moment it reached a point above his head, it ignited, dissolving the shadows and forcing the man to release his hold on Pride.

The small force of the blast was enough to split them apart and send them in opposite directions of the other.

Standing frozen, his hand still raised, Roy watched anxiously as the two recovered. Both sets of eyes were on him; one golden set reflecting curiosity and the other crimson set displaying utter confusion for his actions.

Picking himself and dusting himself off, the blond stranger turned toward Roy and shot him a mindful look. Gesturing to him, he asked, "Was that Flame Alchemy?"

Puzzled by the sudden change in the man's demeanor, Roy kept his guard up and his fingers ready. He just saw the man get impaled by Pride's shadows. Feeling the small cut on his cheek flare up and begin to ache, he began to remember all-too-well the sensation of receiving that cut. Those shadows were very tangible, very real. To survive something like that was inhuman. Which could mean only one thing…

Keeping his body angled toward the man he deemed a threat, his eyes slowly wandered over toward Pride. She dared not get to her feet, remaining seated on her heels as she watched the man, her eyes narrowed in observation. And yet, Roy knew, he could see a small hint of fear in her eyes. When she did not make an advancing move, he quickly turned his attention back to the man, whose golden eyes were still on him.

"It is," Roy muttered hesitantly, keeping his gaze locked on the man's while attempting to keep tabs on Pride, who had yet to produce more shadows.

"Interesting…" the man replied, "So then you are Colonel Roy Mustang? The superior officer that overlooks the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Confused by this change in thought, Roy lowered his arm slightly at the mention of the young boy's name.

"So you've heard of me," Roy asked slowly.

"Of course I have," the blond man, 'Van Hohenheim' Roy had to remind himself, replied with a soft smile, "After all; you've been watching over my boys for the past three years or so."

"Your… boys," Roy echoed back. A beat later the connection was made in his mind. This man bore the same golden hair, the same golden eyes that Edward possessed.

"That's right," the man admitted as he took a step in Roy's direction before casting his glance toward the loathsome Homunculus that crouched a few feet away from him. "I'll explain more later," he muttered as his gaze evened and zeroed in on Pride. Taking a few steps forward, he crouched down in front of her and addressed her. "You've probably already figured out that I've stunned your container, and your Stone subsequently, Pride. As a result, your shadows are weakened."

Crimson eyes watched him, narrowed with resentment as a series of small sparks flitted over her body.

"What? Can't you speak," the Van Hohenheim pushed.

"…Why don't you just finish me off then," she growled.

Without missing a beat, he replied, "Because there's a soul inside of you that isn't part of your Stone, that's why."

"You seemed to have no trouble destroying my container last time we met," she bit back bitterly.

"True, but now the conditions have changed with a human life at stake," he replied hardly.

Scoffing, she muttered, "Sentiment like that will only get you killed."

Van Hohenheim shrugged his shoulders up and down at the notion. "And if that's what does me in, then so be it." His eyes darted down to a shadow that had attempted to move forward, though moments later it drew back and dissipated as another series of sparks shattered it. Looking her square in the eye again, he explained, "My brief contact with you allowed me enough time to transfer a few souls into you so that they could help immobilize you during their brief occupation of this body. This technique is similar to, though less potent than, the one that forced you from your previous container.

"You may try to cast your shadows if you would like, but know that if you try this container may be destroyed like your last." Staring critically at her over the rims of his glasses, he added ominously, "And if that happens, I will guarantee that I will finish you off before you even think about passing on to another body." After pausing to let the notion sink in, he finished by asking, "Do I make myself clear?"

Crimson eyes scanned him, searching for some form of reluctance or hesitance. But, apparently not finding any, she laughed darkly and replied, "I heard you."

"Good… Because I will not be repeating myself," the man responded as he got to his feet. Still looking down at her, he added, "I'd imagine the effects will wear off in a few minutes, so hang tight until then."

She grumbled a slow, unintelligible response, eyes flickering away from him and toward Roy.

Ignoring the glare she focused on him, Roy instead turned his attention toward the man, who was now eyeing him again with curiosity. That's when Roy noticed that the 'wound' he had sustained from Pride was no longer there, healed to the point where not a single scar or abrasion to be seen.

Just like the Homunculi…

"Thank god you stepped in;" he said, grinning sheepishly as he shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched, "Because I was _not_ prepared to ruin such a pretty face."

Seeing the man's demeanor change from intimidating to lax threw Roy off, though he tried to remain even and impassive as he replied, "You're welcome," though his thoughts were now running at a mile a minute as he tried to understand exactly _what_ the man was.

When the man stopped beside him, he grew serious once more as he said, "It's best that we introduce ourselves elsewhere, out of the eye of the public." Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small, folded up sheet of paper and a pen. Unfolding it and scrawling down quickly on it, he handed it to Roy and said, "Once the energy has died down enough, collect her and meet me at this address." And with that, he brushed past Roy and headed out of the alleyway, disappearing around a corner.

* * *

"Any place we can get something to eat? I'm starving," Jerso asked as the small group ventured into the city's center.

"Hang on, I know it's here somewhere," Alphonse said as he looked around the square, trying to find the place he had his mind set on. When he spotted it, he pointed it out and said, "Here we are! I'm sure they'll have some food- Ah!" He cut himself off when a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Ah, Alphonse," the Rose exclaimed as she dropped the strings of the apron she was tying.

"Rose! How have you been," he asked as he took a step toward her.

"I've been fine, Al. Are you still traveling?"

"Yeah, still traveling," he clarified. "Oh! Where are my manners?" Taking a step back, he revealed Winry and May, both of whom were standing behind him. "This is Winry and this is May."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rose acknowledged with a smile after the two girls exchanged pleasantries with her. However, a few moments later she looked past them and noted, "Ed's not with you, though?"

"No, he isn't," Alphonse said as he shrugged his armored shoulders up and down. "He's… somewhere else today."

"Oh," Rose said with a slight frown. "That's too bad. I wanted to see him again."

Out of the corner of his eye, Alphonse saw Winry's face fall. Turning toward her, he eyed her curiously.

Seeing this, Winry quickly whirled toward him and shot him a quizzical look. "What Al?"

Raising a hand to his metal chin and rubbing it thoughtfully, Alphonse said, "Oh, nothing. You just had a weird look on your face, that's all. What were you thinking about…?"

"Oh," Rose said as she looked from Alphonse to Winry, "Are you Ed's-"

"Old friend? Yes, I am," Winry responded with a quick, weak laugh. "We go back a long-"

Hearing a set of footsteps approaching, Alphonse lost track of the conversation as he turned toward them, then stopped.

Standing before him, his hands in his pockets and looking as utterly shocked as Alphonse felt, was Van Hohenheim – Edward's and his father.

Winry must have noticed Alphonse's sudden change in mood because she too turned around and looked. For a moment, the three of them remained completely frozen, all trying to decide if what they were seeing was really, truly what they saw. Then, all three of them simultaneously pointed toward the other and exclaimed, "It's you!"

"You're… Ed and Al's-" Winry began.

"Dad," Alphonse exclaimed, his soul still quivering with disbelief. Was it really…? Could it be?

"My armor," Hohenheim began, much to Alphonse's initial despair. Quickly correcting himself, the blond man shook his head and said, "My apologies, son. You surprised me, is all."

Pointing toward himself, Alphonse said, "So… You know it's me, Dad? Alphonse?"

Hohenheim nodded and said, "Yes. I had the pleasure of visiting and talking to Pinako some time ago. About your body and…" He trailed off, noticing that the people that were milling around had begun to watch them. Turning back to Alphonse, he said, "Let's talk about this later, son. Right now I have some business to attend to before I-"

"Wait," Alphonse yelped as he extended his arms, preventing his father from leaving. "I just found you and… and I want to know more."

Shooting the boy a sympathetic look and relaxing his broadened shoulders, Hohenheim said, "I won't be going anywhere, Alphonse. I would be more than happy to-"

"Ah, there he is," someone shouted from behind Alphonse, causing the suit of armor to turn around.

"Mr. Hohenheim," a second man, who was holding a couple of wooden beams, said as they stopped in front of him. "Are you busy? We could use your help."

"Ah, I would absolutely love to," he began to explain to them, "But at the moment I have a pressing matter to attend to. If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to after that."

"We can help," Jerso said as he approached the small group, followed closely behind by Zampano and a disgruntled Yoki. "You go and deal with whatever you've got and we'll take it from here." Just as Yoki was about to protest regarding their hunger, Zampano grabbed the back of his hood and yanked him after the grateful men as Jerso gave them a small wave before following them, stating that the food would taste better after a day's work.

After watching them turn a corner and disappear, Alphonse said, "Dad, I'd really like to learn more. Please..."

Hohenheim watched his son for a few moments, mulling over Alphonse's plea. Then, his eyes wandered back down to May and Winry. Smiling lightly, he said, "If that is what you want, son, I won't stop you from coming with me. I only ask that these two beautiful young ladies stay behind." Looking over toward Rose, he added, "Why don't you take these lovely ladies with you to whatever you're going next."

"Actually, I'll be heading to my house, so they are more than welcome to come and get cleaned up and rest. I'm sure that you must be exhausted after all of your travels." Taking hold of Winry's wrist, she excitedly said, "I'd be more than happy if you came with me."

As the older woman began to guide an unsure Winry away, May stayed behind, her dark eyes focused on Van Hohenheim.

Seemingly seeing this, the older man watched her with the same intensity for few moments, almost as if the two shared a brief, silent conversation. At last, the young, determined Xingese girl said, "I hope you don't mind, sir, but I would like to stay with Mr. Alphonse."

Just as Alphonse was about to protest on his father's behalf, Hohenheim surprised him by shrugging his shoulders up and down. "If that is what you want to do, I won't stop you either, young lady." Then, he brushed past them and called over his shoulder, "Let's get going, then. We can't miss this appointment."

* * *

When he was sure that the man had disappeared, Roy stuffed the note into his pocket and strode over to Pride, who was struggling to get to her feet. Bending slightly, he extended his hand to her to help her up.

After looking at the hand with narrowed eyes, she reached up and slapped it away, muttering, "I don't need your help," as she got to her feet, swaying slightly.

"I'm not helping you," Roy retorted as he reached out and helped steady her. "I'm helping the Lieutenant."

"You need to let that go," she murmured as she pulled away from his touch. "Because it's not her you're helping every time you think you are… Much like when you 'helped' earlier."

"From the looks of it," Roy bit hardly, " _You_ needed the help."

"I had it all under control," she replied coolly, turning away from him slightly to look back at the spot she had fallen.

"You almost had the Lieutenant's body ripped apart. That hardly seems like something you had under control," he retorted.

Without casting a glance in his direction, she replied, "I knew he wouldn't rip me apart, because after all my intentions weren't to destroy him."

"What," Roy asked, now confused at the revelation. He was happy that it did not come down to that, but seeing the murderous intent in her eyes; he had, for a moment, been terrified that one of them would not leave the short confrontation alive.

"It's exactly as I said," she responded as she finally cast her crimson gaze toward him. "My intentions were only to test his strength; to see what he was capable of since the memories of that night are jumbled and practically nonexistent. Now I know," she continued as she narrowed her eyes at the thought, "That he is a force to be reckoned with."

"So you dragged me out here and jeopardized the Lieutenant's body just to test your opponent's strength," Roy asked exasperatedly.

"Yes," she answered with a small smirk. "And you performed marvelously and exactly as I thought you would, _sir_."

With a low growl, Roy turned away and muttered, "So now I'm acting as one of your puppets, strings attached and everything, huh?"

"You could say that," she replied, the smile evident in her voice. "But in the end, this little arrangement is doing both of us a favor. You are left with the satisfied belief that you are helping the Lieutenant's body survive, while I am assured to have someone to use as a 'distraction'."

She could say all she wanted, but he knew even by the tone of her voice and the words she used that she was frightened, even submissive, to the obviously stronger power of that man. That, he decided, was something he could use to his advantage…

Taking a step toward the mouth of the alleyway, Roy reached into his pocket and produced the piece of paper Van Hohenheim had given him. Holding it up for her to see, he said, "Since you two won't be going at each other's throats again, how about we pay 'Van Hohenheim' a visit now then? I have a few inquiries of my own."

"Mmm, like what he meant about his two boys, right," she asked as she raised a brow. "You and the Lieutenant seem quite fond of them, after all. It isn't surprising that you'd want to know more about their so-called 'absentee father.'"

"You could say that," Roy replied mildly. "But I also want to know for my own _personal_ reasons." Turning back toward the mouth of the alley, he began to walk, with her falling into step beside him. "For example," he said as he watched her from the corner of his eye. "From what I heard you say, you were looking for a Philosopher's Stone. So does that mean he's one of you, seeing that you couldn't kill him?"

She clicked her tongue agitatedly and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. He is hardly in the same league. Unfortunately for him, he is all too human."

And yet, Roy internalized, it was clear that there was more to this man. He wasn't in their league… because he was better. Deciding that he did not want a confrontation by bringing up the topic, he decided to continue on in silence, looking up at the occasional street sign to be sure that they were headed in the right direction.

As they walked along, they passed a dog and its owner heading in the opposite direction. When they had gotten a few feet away, the dog suddenly snarled and lunged, snapping its powerful jaws shut just inches from Pride's hand. Seemingly unfazed by this, she simply looked up and glared at the owner as he apologized profusely, explaining that his dog had never done anything like that before as it continued to stare her down and snarl.

"It's fine," she replied with annoyance as she turned away, signaling to Roy to continue walking. Following after her and then falling into step beside her, he glanced over at her as she muttered, "Pathetic beast."

With a scoff, Roy pointed out, "Dogs are an excellent judge of character, you know. It probably knew you were vile the moment it laid eyes on you."

"Dogs are a type of creature fueled by the desire for dominance," she replied evenly as she quickened her pace. "They are animals that, when posed with another larger, more powerful force, will attempt to overcome it in a fit of preeminence, similar to _her_ dog."

At the mention of 'her' dog, Roy's thoughts immediately turned to Black Hayate. Casting her a wary glance, he muttered, "And just where is he exactly?"

The corners of her lips turning upright, Pride said, "The little beast is currently residing with Gracia Hughes upon 'her' request. She was very adamant that it not be killed, despite the fact that it bit me."

"Good dog," Roy muttered under his breath, causing her to turn toward him and glare. Feeling no need to apologize, Roy quickened his pace so that he passed her, rounding the corner onto the street nearest them. Looking down at the paper once more, then back at the street, he realized that the area they were led to was less crowded and more toward the edge of town. Glancing down once more, he saw that this was indeed the street the man had written down.

Continuing on, the two walked in silence as the homes became more spread out and less frequent. Then, nearing the edge of the drive, they came upon an old, worn house, its shutters broken and hanging from the windows.

"Charming," Pride stated dryly as they strode up the steps, taking notice of the home's peeling paint and rotting wood.

Ignoring her, he raised his fist and knocked against the battered door a few times. The door immediately gave way to his knocks, creaking open on its rusted hinges. Pushing it open the rest of the way, Roy began to call out to see if anyone was home, but instantly stopped when he saw three people in the room: a young girl with dark hair, 'Van Hohenheim,' and a familiar suit of armor.

"Wait," the Alphonse squeaked as he rose to his feet and looked over at the blond man, who was standing just beyond the couch he and the young girl were seated on. "Your 'appointment' is with Colonel Mustang?"

"Alphonse," Roy mused as he raised his brows. "I thought you two were up north. Where's-" Before he could finish his sentence, something rushed past him, flying inches from his face. Moments later, the _clang_ of metal hitting the floor filled his ears.

Whirling around, he saw that the 'objects' that had flown past him were throwing knives, having been stopped by a wall-shaped shadow… and a very angry Pride. Turning back toward the source of the knives, he saw the young Xingese girl that had been seated next to Alphonse was now crouched low to the ground. Dark eyes narrowed toward her, the young girl growled, "That pressure you're exuding… You're one of the Homunculi!"

"W-what," Alphonse stammered as his soul-fire eyes flickered over to the 'Lieutenant' in utter disbelief. Roy could tell by the way the boy moved, the way his eyes flitted about, that he was registering what he was seeing, and yet still not fully believing it.

"Observant," the Homunculus said as she raised a brow. "Although, you are hardly a threat." All at once the shadows at her feet came to life and darted toward the girl.

She responded by dodging the blows that would have otherwise cut a less skilled fighter to pieces, soaring over them with relative ease. The moment her feet touched the ground, the girl let loose another flurry of throwing knives, all of them effectively blocked by Pride. When the shadows abruptly changed direction, one of them managed to graze the young girl's cheek.

Just as Van Hohenheim began to react, the shadows split into two and wrapped themselves around him. "I won't let you interfere this time," Lifting him from the ground, they were quick to slam him back down onto it, the act stunning him for a moment.

One moment was all she needed, however…

Another series of shadows sprang free and grazed the girl's face and arms, decorating them with fresh splashes of blood. When the girl cried out in surprise and pain, Roy grabbed Pride's wrists and clenched his fists, snapping, "That's _enough_ of your shadow puppets, Pride!"

"Oh, they're shadow puppets now, hmm," she mused as her eyes slowly wandered over to the suit of armor that was now on his feet and heading toward them. "I'll show you _puppets_." Moments later the darkened shadows still at her feet unwound themselves and reared, shooting up to and wrapping around the armor.

"What're you-" Roy began, getting cut off by Alphonse's yell.

"M-my blood seal," he yelped as he began to struggle and grab at the shadows. "Stop! You can't-"

"Alphonse," May cried as she rushed over toward the suit of armor, forgetting about the wounds that she bore.

"H-help," Alphonse cried as the black tendrils continued to weave themselves around him, deaf to his pleas. "Stop, PLEASE!"

Roy's head snapped away from the boy and to Pride, seeing the sickening look of amusement on her face. It was so self-satisfied, so pleased at the chaos and distress it was causing. "Stop it," he commanded.

It was forming again. That pit in his stomach was beginning to pool and fill with the disgust and animosity he felt before. But as the young boy's cries rang louder in his ears, Roy found himself letting go of her wrists, grabbing the front of her shirt and thrusting her into the wall and holding her there.

It was as if she were unfazed by this abrupt action, her eyes continuing to stare over his shoulder and toward the mayhem behind him. It… she… _It_ didn't care. It didn't care at all.

"I said STOP IT," Roy roared as he clenched the fist holding her shirt tighter, using his arm to pin her to the wall. All at once the boy's echoed cries abruptly ceased and the shadows dispersed as Roy drew his fist back and drove it into the plaster wall she was pushed up against, the blow landing inches from her ear.

Trembling as his reddened vision began to clear and dissipate, Roy very quickly found himself starting into widened and frightened brown eyes. "Colonel," Riza uttered in shock as she reached up and grasped his arm with quivering hands. "Stop… It hurts…"

That's when he realized that the hand that had gripped the front of her shirt had moved up and wrapped itself around her throat.

Feeling the grip he had loosen, Roy then felt his entire body grow numb as he continued to stare into those pleading brown eyes. He was certain now; this _was_ her.

The way he had reacted… A scare tactic. But still, it appeared that he had… That he had almost thought of… He felt himself slipping…

When he had released his grip on her, he stumbled backwards, his right hand hanging loosely at his side. He could barely feel it at the moment, but he was convinced it was broken judging by the dull throbbing he felt slowly radiating through it. But it did not matter; _nothing_ mattered. That look in her eyes was pure, unadulterated fear.

Fear of him. Of what he could have done, had the thought crossed his mind. He was slipping…

The deafening silence that filled his ears dispersed as the young Xingese girl's cries registered with him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the suit of armor was lying on its back, completely muted and still.

Snapping his eyes back over to Pri - Riza, he saw that her hand was at her throat, grasping it gently as her blank, unbelieving stare fixated itself on the suit of armor on the floor. Just as he was about to say something, he heard the young girl cry out again.

Without a second glance, he turned on his heels and raced over to Alphonse, falling to his knees beside the young boy. Rocking the suit of armor back and forth, he began to call to him in an attempt to wake him. "Alphonse… Alphonse, wake up!"

He distinctly remembers Edward having told him long ago that his younger brother did not eat or _sleep_. Ever. And the young boy… He had cried out about his blood seal which if, he knew, were wiped clean, the boy's existence in this world would cease to be.

"Alphonse, please," the young Xingese girl begged as she stooped down next to the suit of armor, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please… Not again…"

Reaching up, Roy grabbed Alphonse's helmet with his left hand and pulled it off to reveal the blood seal inside. Much to his relief, it was still completely intact. But then… Where was he?

* * *

 **A/N:** _After that little angst ride, let me just say that I would never harm Alphonse. Remember that a similar thing happened in the original storyline in terms of confronting Pride. Next time there will be more Alphonse and May, General Armstrong, and Edward (because we need to figure out what he's up to…). Everyone's actions will make a lot more sense in the coming chapters (though I hope I did them all justice…). I'm torn on whether I like this chapter or not._

 _Thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews so far! Like I said above, everything will be okay. Trust me._


	7. Existence

Keeping up with her cold-hearted, stone-faced façade was relatively simple, even though on the inside General Olivier Armstrong was sweating. She knew what she saw. She understood it, and yet she even felt that her mind was too jumbled to grasp the concept.

She knew that the Amestrian military had created artificial humans. She saw one herself when she was up at Fort Briggs. But to have created hundreds, no, thousands of them? They were planning something, and now that they had their 'army,' all they had to do was wait until their next move.

Striding confidently through the halls of Central Command, she let her eyes wander and watch as she passed countless soldiers. It was impossible to tell who exactly was with them and who would be against.

There was one person, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, that would be against military command…

When she had reached her destination, she slapped her hands down on the desk and leaned forward, startling the mousy secretary that sat behind it. Eyeing the woman critically, the General muttered, "Where is your boss? He offered me dinner and a drink, and right now I'm _very_ thirsty."

"I-I'm sorry, sir," the woman stammered as she looked up at the General, "But Colonel Mustang is not here right now. He and Lieutenant Hawkeye went to Liore for confidential matters."

Lieutenant Hawkeye? If she remembered correctly, and she was confident she did, the Lieutenant had been reassigned to be the Fuhrer's 'aide,' or rather, hostage. So what had changed…?

With a frustrated huff, the General straightened herself up and clasped her hands behind her back. "If that's the case, then tell that slacker I came by once he returns, because I have a bone to pick with him about missing our dinner date."

"Y-yes, sir," the woman said as she hastily threw up a salute.

Turning away from her, General Armstrong strode out of the room and back into the halls of Central Command. It seemed that the Colonel would be out of reach for a while. And since that were the case, she'd have to make use of her time between now and then…

* * *

At last, he had done it. Tugging feebly at the suture material woven into his side, Edward Elric pulled out the last stitch he needed gone for his plan. Reaching up slowly and cautiously, he dug his finger into the newly reopened wound and pulled it out. Keeping his head up and focused on the chimeras that continued to pace a couple of yards from him, he moved his eyes down to look at it, pleased to see that it was covered with a decent amount of blood.

Bit by bit, he lowered his hand down to the floor, moving as evenly as possible to prevent them from detecting him. He didn't know how much of their personalities or minds remained attached to them, but he decided to err on the side of caution, lest he provoke one of them.

Touching his finger to the ground beside him, he began to draw an array, pushing and dragging it along until the blood dried. Reaching up again, he stuck his finger into the wound and repeated the process. Over and over again he did it as the chimeras continued to march back and forth. When that circle was complete, he stuck his finger in the wound once more and moved his hand further from his body, causing the chain around his wrist to drag across the ground.

Hearing this, the chimeras' ears perked up and they took a step toward him, their growls becoming louder and more savage. However, when they reached a certain point, they stopped, as if some unknown force told them to. Frustrated and clearly angered by this, they went back to their pacing, their eyes boring into him with greater intensity and focus.

Attempting to swallow the lump of uncertainty that lodged itself in his throat, Edward slowed his movements even more, taking care to avoid rattling the chain too often as he continued to work. When he was nearly complete with this one, he glanced up and toward the door that Envy had made its exit by. Seeing no signs of movement, he repeated his procedure one more time, darkening the final lines on the circle.

With a muted sigh of relief, he allowed his eyes to wander down to the two perfect arrays. Then, taking a deep breath, he silently reminded himself to ignore the pain. Soon, he thought, it would all be over.

He had one shot at this. If he messed up, that would be the end. Fueled by predatory rage, his friends would probably rip him apart at the seams, and his existence in this world would be cut short.

But still…

He had to do this. He needed to go and find the others. He needed to find Winry and Alphonse.

He needed to know that they were safe…

Before activating the circle, he slowly moved his hand up to the pocket of his black jacket and felt them there.

Winry's earrings…

He still had to get them back to her…

Using this as a quiet excuse to keep moving forward, he took a deep breath and exhaled, mentally preparing himself. He just needed to remember to focus And now that he had decided that he was as ready as he would ever be, he hovered his hand over the array closest to him… and slammed it down on top of it, activating it.

Hearing the slap and seeing the glow, the two mindless chimeras turned toward him and charged, screaming with their newfound madness. But just as they closed the distance by at least half, four massive walls sprang up from the ground, surrounding them. As it climbed higher and higher, he heard their roars and screams echo more severely as they bounced off of the columns. When it had grown to a height he was satisfied with, he lifted his hand from the circle, wheezing and panting with exhaustion.

All that planning… All that focus… It was tiring…

But, he reminded himself again as he jerked his arm toward him, causing the chain to slide over to an on top of the second circle, that he needed to keep moving.

There was no stopping now.

Slapping his hand down on the chain and circle, he watched as it glowed for a moment before he heard the links in the chain shatter. Pulling his hand away, he surveyed the wristlet that still had pieces of chain dangling from it.

He'd leave it for now and try to deal with it later.

Struggling to push himself upward, he leaned heavily into the wall as he rose to his shaking knees. All at once a dizzying spell washed over him, and for a minute he saw stars.

Fighting through this and fighting through the pain, he pushed himself off of the wall and staggered in the direction opposite of where he last saw Envy, past the massive structure that caved the still-screaming chimeras. Still blinking away the bright flashes that danced in front of his eyes, he hurled himself forward and slammed his right metal shoulder into the wall so that he could steady himself, and his breathing, for a moment.

The room was spinning now, though, and the showers of lights and flashes seemed endless. Unable to contain it any longer, he bowed forward and released the contents of his stomach onto the ground below him, dry-heaving and gagging until he was confident it was all expelled.

The medication was completely gone from his circulation now; the pain becoming unbearable and hot. He was dancing on the edge on consciousness and blackness, with his mind leaning toward the latter. Maybe he'd die after all. Maybe it wasn't in the cards for him to survive that fall. Folding his flesh hand to the seeping, bleeding wound, he wondered if he could even muster up the strength to move another step. Closing his eyes, he could still feel everything spinning, his mind plunging further and further-

No.

Tightening the grip on his side to help staunch the bleeding, Edward slowly straightened his legs and began to even his breathing.

He made a promise before. There would be no tears shed for him… Because he would make it back in one piece.

To see Alphonse.

To see Winry.

Pinako…

Even the Colonel… and Hawkeye too…

He needed to do this not just for himself, but for them.

 _Keep moving forward_ , he told himself over and over as he raised and lowered his heavy feet, making slow progress down the narrow hallway he had come upon. _Don't stop_ , he silently commanded himself as his metal shoulder continued to scrape against the corridor's wall.

 _Don't give up…_

Looking down, he saw that the small space ended with a set of steps. Taking steady, even breaths; he took one step at a time until he finally, _finally_ , reached the bottom of the staircase. Casting his glassy stare down into the blackness before him, he took one, final breath in… and out.

But just as he was about to begin moving again, a soul-shattering scream ripped through the darkness, ricocheting off of the walls, the reverberations ringing loudly in his ears.

For that moment he froze, his heart racing as he tried desperately to place it. It was not the chimeras, nor was it not human. Rather, it had a familiar ring to its despair. Something inside of him, though, warned him against pursuing the matter, reminding him that he was without his right arm _and_ was still bleeding profusely from his left side.

He couldn't… He couldn't save everyone this time, not unless he went and got help. So with that, he pushed himself off of the wall and took two uncoordinated steps down into the darkness, though he still strained to listen for the noise again. But when all he encountered was met with was silence, he focused on one thought: Staying alive.

Then, he ran.

* * *

Staring into the empty vastness before him, Alphonse turned his helmet slowly, trying to see if there was… There.

To the right of him, a distance away, was a looming, dark Gate. Cautiously taking a step forward, then another, he slowly made his way toward it.

Despite it seemingly being a great distance from him, those few steps were all it took for the Gate to be drawn to him, stopping just before him.

Looking down at the practical skeleton with skin before him, he gasped.

He had only caught glimpses of his body before as it tried to draw his soul back to it, but now that he was standing before it he could see what its time at the Gate did to it.

Feeling his stare, it slowly raised its head and stared at him with empty, golden eyes. After seemingly registering who he was, it clumsily reached out for him and muttered, "My soul…-"

Taking a step away from it, Alphonse raised his hands defensively and said, "I can't come back to you right now. Not yet. I need to go back and protect May. She's hurt and-"

"They hurt you," it said as it tilted its head. "They hurt you and… you want to go back…?"

"I _have_ to," Alphonse argued as fear gripped his soul. The longer he stood there and fought with himself, the more damage **it** would do.

He didn't even know what _it_ was. A Homunculus like May had said? But it was Lieutenant Hawkeye. He _knew_ her. She wasn't-

Unless…

His mind instantly snapped back to Ling and what had happened to him. Had the same fate befallen the Lieutenant too? And if that were the case, then could it be…?

There could only be one answer to that. No other Homunculus had displayed that much raw power and wielded it as effortlessly before.

The original and most lethal sin, he had once called it.

Pride.

"It nearly killed you, you know."

Hearing his own voice again, he looked toward his body once more.

"Why would you want to go back there? If you die, we won't be reunited. All of your efforts will have been for naught…"

"I don't want to hear it," Alphonse shot back agitatedly as he raised his hands and clapped them on either side of his helmet. His body was reacting to his fear, its deep-seated desire to continue living on as long as possible. It wanted to preserve itself and leave the others to fend for themselves.

But if there was even one thing he could do, one thing to stop it from hurting the others, and then he would. Because he feared that Colonel Mustang would not have the strength to face it-

"What about your brother," his body soothed, drawing him out of his internal struggle once more.

Looking back at it, he slowly lowered his hands and murmured, "What?"

"What about your brother," it asked again. "Are you willing to go back and die, leaving him alone? He won't return for his limbs if you are dead. He would see no point, no purpose in it. But," it countered as it raised its pointer finger, "There is a day that is approaching; a day of reckoning you might say. If you choose to stay here, your brother could act on that day and reclaim you _and_ his limbs.

"The portal will be opened," it said as its grin widened. "And Amestris _will_ **burn**."

"W-what," Alphonse stammered as he took a step back, "What portal? How do you know that?!" Stumbling back further away from it, he realized that the vast emptiness that once consumed his peripheral vision had begun to grow darker. Then, it reared and struck, consuming his field of vision until nothing but blackness filled it.

"Oh noble Alphonse," a voice behind him purred.

Whirling around to it, he found himself face to face with a younger Lieutenant Hawkeye, clothed in an Amestrian soldier's uniform and a white hooded cloak and sporting the same short hair she had when they had first met her. Smirking at his surprise, she murmured, "Do you honestly think that you can stop me by gallantly running back into the fray? Are you really that _arrogant_?"

"No," he answered, to which she raised her brows in surprise. "I don't think I can stop you. From what I've seen you could probably chop me to pieces in a matter of seconds. But still," he continued as he squared his shoulders, feeling more and more confident as he went on, "If there is something I can do, as insignificant as it will be, then I _will_ do it."

"I don't understand," she muttered as crimson eyes flickered about, trying to get a read on him.

"There isn't much to understand," Alphonse tried to explain. "It's just something I just _have_ to do."

"So you would risk your insignificant life and lose it? All to buy your friends more time?"

"Yes," he answered as he nodded feverishly. "If there is anything I can do to protect them, even for a minute, then I gladly will-"

She scoffed at the notion and scolded, "Your diffidence will be your ultimate downfall, Alphonse…"

"Then so be it," he replied definitively. "Now let me go so I can protect my friends!"

Taking a step forward, she reached up to place a hand on his shoulder as she muttered, "Very well then. I hope that-" The instant she made contact with him, a jolt seemed to pass between Alphonse and her. Drawing her hand away and raising her hands to her head, she hissed, "What did you do?!"

"What," he cried, "I-I didn't do anything!" He watched as she sank down to her knees in front of him, her hands still on her head. "Please! What's wrong?! I-" Before he could finish, the blackness completely consumed him, pulling him, taking him, and sending him hurtling into the abyss.

* * *

 _It was watching him, eyes narrowed with disgust at the man that had barely gotten away._

" _What's wrong," he asked, "Not coming any further?"_

 _That's when it saw the man's face… The similarities to… It couldn't be… Its eyes widened momentarily. It was… "That face… You are Van Hohenheim."_

 _Ignoring its revelation, Van Hohenheim knelt down and brushed his fingertips on the edge of the tunnel and muttered, "It seems that this is as far as you can come." Looking up at it, he asked, "Would you die if you left this place? Is there a prescribed line outside which, if you crossed, you would die? And… You can't move except from this tunnel, and the heart of Central City." Narrowing his eyes, he finished, "Am I close?"_

 _Pride clenched its teeth and kept quiet, silently damning the man for his knowledge and prowess._

 _Grinning, Van Hohenheim asked, "I'm dead on, aren't I" When Pride did not respond, the blond man pressed, "Say something, you recluse? Or," he tilted his head, that ridiculous grin still on his face, "Are you mad?"_

 _Narrowing its eyes, Pride hissed, "Wrath and the like do not exist within me. There is no Wrath. Or Lust. Or Sloth… No Greed, nor Envy or Gluttony. Such emotions have fled my 'Father.'_

" _My name… is Pride."_

"' _You said Pride? I see now…" Van Hohenheim began. "People have seven sins. 'Lust;' 'Greed;' 'Sloth;' 'Gluttony;' 'Envy;' 'Wrath;' and finally, 'Pride.' At the beginning," he continued, "He severed you from himself, denoting you as his 'Pride.'_

" _I have to say," he observed, "He's fashioned your form to resemble his from his time in the flask. If I had to say it, I'd say that the name expresses the appearance. He had_ ** _fierce_** _pride in that form, you know."_

" _So are you saying you wish to see Father," it growled through clenched teeth._

" _There's no hurry. I'll come, whether called or not." Just as he was about to turn away, a series of small red sparks flashed across Pride's field of vision. A beat later, a burning sensation ripped through it, causing it to snarl with pain._

 _Seeing this, Van Hohenheim raised his brows, though he looked fairly unsurprised. "It would seem that my method worked. I was afraid it wouldn't with the way you were charging through my countless barriers."_

" _What did you do," it hissed as another bout of pain ripped through it._

 _Shrugging his shoulders up and down, Van Hohenheim said, "I deposited some of the souls I carry with me into the rocks you tore through." Watching as the red sparks danced across it again, he added, "You startled me and I reacted by fighting back."_

 _Focusing its glare on the man's smug face, it growled, "And you think that some little alchemy trick is going to frighten me?"_

" _Frighten you? No, I couldn't do that. You're way more frightening than I am."_

 _Seeing that the man was toying with it, it snarled, "You're right, seeing that you have cowered away from me in a fit of self-preservation."_

" _Fair enough," Van Hohenheim replied dismissively. Turning on his heels, he then said, "Be sure to tell your 'Father' something for me. Tell him that Slave 23 is coming to see him, and that he should not get too comfortable waiting in Central." After he had taken a few steps another thought crossed his mind causing him to stop and ominously add, "And if I were you, I would not dawdle."_

 _Clenching its teeth agitatedly, it watched after the man and then kept its sights focused on the spot until well after he had disappeared. When it at last decided to heed his words, it slowly sunk back into the darkness, ready to-_

 _Suddenly, a disturbance caught its attention._

* * *

" _The First Homunculus? What do you mean by that," the noble, yet foolish Lieutenant Hawkeye asked as she stood rigid and firm._

" _Exactly as I said," Pride mused. "Nothing more, nothing less." As it unwound its shadows and slowly stretched them toward her, it purred, "Trying to get whatever information out of me that you can? You are a brave soul, Lieutenant Hawkeye. I admire that… Why won't you join us?"_

 _A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Join you? Why would I ever consider that? I know how you function. You don't want 'allies;' you want pawns that you can use at your convenience."_

" _That's too bad," Pride said with feigned disappointment as its shadows wrapped around her arms and legs, extending up and around her neck. As it tightened its grip, a shadow moved up the side of her face and dragged its edge along her cheek, slicing through her delicate, flimsy skin. When it had reached her ear, however, a red spark tore through it and vaporized it._

 _Recognizing this, the Lieutenant's eyes wandered over to her peripheral vision as she mused, "What's wrong? Are you having a few technical difficulties?"_

 _With a low growl, Pride reached up and ran its fingers down its face, noticing that the skin there had fragmented and begun to disintegrate. Feeling its form begin to tremble, Pride began to fully realize Van Hohenheim's_ true _intentions, taunting it to 'not dawdle' when returning to Father. He had warned it of this, and yet it chose to waste its precious time on this worthless, pathetic human._

 _Another flash of energy dissolved the skin on its arm, allowing its true form to leak out and lash irritably at its outward exposure. Its body was unstable and breaking. If this continued any longer, it would die…_

… _Unless…_

 _As another piece of its container ruptured and shattered, its true form continued to spill out, causing a sense of panic to fill it._

 _All it needed was a temporary fix to an otherwise permanent end… and it was standing right there._

 _Fighting through the pain of having its container torn to pieces, Pride's shadows reared up as it used the last of its strength to unite them into a humanoid form. Coming together in front of her, its eyes fixated themselves on her and its lips curled upward menacingly._

 _Watching as her confident expression melted away and gave way to fear, the Homunculus gleefully took her face in its hands and purred, "The only one that will be having any 'technical difficulties' will be you, I'm afraid. And while I'd like to say that this won't hurt, I would surely be lying."_

 _She opened her mouth to respond, but no words escaped her lips, the realization and terror all at once hitting the Lieutenant. This expression only fueled Pride's confidence in itself. This task would be quick and virtually effortless. A temporary fix to an otherwise permanent problem for it. Unfortunately, however, the permanent problem, or end, would be reserved for only one of them…_

 _It relished the moment for a brief second, knowing that it would be the last thing she saw in her short and worthless life. Then, before it had time to dissipate and perish, it pressed its palm to her torn and bloody cheek._

* * *

 _The moments that followed became a mess of cacophony and mayhem as its thousands upon thousands of souls tried desperately to make sense of their new surroundings as a force battled against it._

 _She was strong, but not nearly as strong as it was._

 _They clashed and she fought, the struggle emulating through her body as it writhed and tried fruitlessly to end the pain of broken bones, ruptured organs, and endlessly spilt blood._

 _But then silence fell, and for a moment there was nothing. No sound. No screams. No heartbeat. No breath of life._

 _Just existence._

 _An existence that was hard to characterize or familiarize. This existence was just suddenly there, staring blankly out across the tree-filled courtyard, watching carelessly as the small trickle of blood that poured from its mouth grow larger and larger, staining the stones beneath it crimson red._

 _It was a frightening feeling, existing and perceiving, yet not knowing anything; only knowing that it existed._

 _Then, a sharp intake of air. A breath that bathed lungs once filled with blood. It coughed at the sensation, forcing it to take another breath, and then another…_

 _Moments later, a heartbeat occurred, slowly but surely finding and maintaining a steady pace._

 _As these things began and continued to happen, it slowly remembered the meaning of these things and the purpose for which they occur._

 _To maintain life._

 _Blinking, its sight slowly became more focused and clear, understanding now what it had been perceiving for so long…_

 _It was alive._

 _Still, it wondered as it slowly pushed itself up on its elbows and knees, what was its purpose? What was its means of existing…? It wracked its thoughts and emotions as they slowly trickled in, and yet, these did not seem to be its own._

 _Getting to its feet, it swayed unevenly and blindly reached out, pressing its hand to a wall as it raised another hand to its head._

 _The memories and thoughts of another began to race in, but it kept pushing them away. Those were not its, and its were not those._

 _There was something it should cling to, something that was its and its alone._

 _Then, a word entered its mind, and its lips curled upward in recognition as the darkness –its darkness- began to come alive and wind itself around it._

 _At last, it had discovered what its existence was, what it was to be called._

 _Pride…_

* * *

Something inside of her snapped as memories she knew were not her own began to violently flood Riza's mind. Memories of _that day_ when she had thought she died…

Clenching her eyes shut, her hands went to her head as a burst of pain flowered within it, Pride's screams echoing inside of her mind. Falling to her knees, she curled forward into the fetal position as another one of Pride's screams tore through her. But when it seemed to resonate around her, she realized that it was because it was coming from her.

Her internal pleading seemed to fall on deaf ears as Pride continued to thrash and writhe within her, trying desperately to place the memories and categorize them, realizing once again the error it had made. But its desperation, its panic, was taking its toll, the force threatening to tear both of them apart.

It had become so loud, so unbearable, that she hadn't registered the large, calloused hand on the top of her head until that moment.

A beat later, red sparks danced in her vision before the pain suddenly subsided and numbness took over, hurtling them into an endless dark.

* * *

 **A/N:** _So about the Edward part and the 'scream' he heard. I did not want to rewrite the screen, but remember who *cough*Bido*cough* was down there around that time… This part took place at that very moment._

 _Like I said last chapter (I can't believe I updated again so quickly!), everything will be okay. But what do you think that was; what had happened between Pride and Alphonse? I'll give you a hint: it has to do with their characters, and particular words I used during their exchange in Al's 'dream.'_

 _Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews so far! We'll for sure be seeing Alphonse next time, for he is a precious child and cannot have harm come to him…_


	8. Revelation

**Brief A/N:** _So this chapter answers a few questions, but it will leave more in its wake. All of them will be answered in time, so fear not! Just keep in mind what Hohenheim and Pride say, especially. After this chapter there will be more parental-ness, including an interaction between Alphonse and Hohenheim, and of course, Roy and Ed; plus Riza will be making more appearances and there will be more action/time skips. So hang tight, because it will_ _ **all**_ _be answered._

* * *

It seemed that, no matter how much they yelled, screamed, cried; the young boy trapped in the suit of armor did not awaken. It was almost as if his soul had been taken from him—

A cry from the other side of the room immediately caught his attention. Snapping his head around, he saw Riza on her knees, her hands on either side of her head. Then, as if another bout tore through her, she curled into herself and half-gasped, half-sobbed, "Stop…!"

Moving slightly in her direction, he still kept his hand on the suit of armor. She needed him.

And yet… Something inside of him stopped him. Who was to say it really was her? But if it were Pride, then what were the chances that it was hurting her as well… Moving again, he noticed that one single shadow remained, clinging feebly to the armor's foot. Tracing it back with his eye, he saw that it stopped at the shadows nearest her knees. Did it have something to do with that…?

As he tried to process, tried to decide, he saw another movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his gaze toward it, he recognized Van Hohenheim striding purposefully toward her, red sparks flitting around his fingers as he walked.

The memories of the day's earlier events suddenly flooded his mind, along with the man's words. It was 'his turn.' Because now was the opportune moment…

Without a second thought, Roy found himself on his feet and charging toward the man as he placed his hand atop her head. And as she looked up, he saw her eyes widen, realizing what was about to happen.

Almost there… Almost—

Then, he watched as the red sparks snapped and cracked angrily as they intensified. A beat later, her eyes glossed over and she fell. Diving down, Roy managed to catch her body before it hit the ground, skidding into the wall just behind her. Keeping a tight grip on her, he whirled around and freed his good hand, holding it up, poised and ready to snap.

Hohenheim looked down the bridge of his nose at Roy, studying him and his reaction. Then his eyes wandered over to the gloveless hand that was held up so threateningly. When he made a move to step closer to Roy, a loud gasp from behind him drew his attention away.

Taking this moment to glance down, Roy saw that her eyelids were closed, her eyes darting rapidly back and forth beneath them, as if she were dreaming. A small gasp from her quickly followed suit as she furrowed her brows and her lips moved, holding a silent conversation that only she and it would understand…

Yet again her life was spared. Though as grateful as he was, he could not help but feel that Hohenheim was planning something. It had been twice now that he had shown mercy, despite the fact that the Homunculus continued its ruthless tirades.

What that plan was, however, he had no clue…

"D-Dad?"

Hearing the child-like echo of a voice, Roy's head immediately snapped up as the suit of armor that was lying motionlessly moments before abruptly sat up, the soul-fire light in his eyes once again lit and peering in their general direction.

Roy watched as the young girl cried out Alphonse's name and tackled his chest plate, trying desperately to wrap her arms around him in relief.

Slightly dazed, Alphonse pulled his attention away from them and looked down at the girl and murmured, "May… You're alright?"

The girl nodded her head feverishly as she quickly responded, "I'm fine, Mr. Alphonse. I'm okay." Then, she immediately turned it around and looked up at him widened, fearful eyes and asked, "Are _you_ okay?"

The soul-fire eye flickered with hesitation before he nodded slowly and said, "I'm alright, May. But… You're bleeding!" Pulling away from her firm grasp, the suit of armor looked her up and down, and then looked down at himself, noticing that her brief contact with him left a few reddened smears. Raising his gloved hands and reaching toward her, he cried, "You're bleeding!"

"I'm okay, Mr. Alphonse, really," she girl, May, tried to reason with him as she rolled back her sleeves, revealing a series of thin cuts. "They've mostly grazed the surface. It looks a lot worse than it is," she added. "But right now I'm more worried about you! It happened again, didn't it? You disconnected and left again!"

Continuing to reach forward with his gloved hand, he wiped away the tear that had mixed in with a droplet of blood that had begun to make its way down her face. "I did, May," he answered, his voice ringing with truth. "But I'm here now, and because I'm here we need to focus on you," he insisted. Then, as if he realized he was being watched, he looked up at the two pairs of eyes that watched him. First, he looked toward Hohenheim, who had been eyeing him the entire time. And then, Roy watched as his eyes wandered down to and met his, before flickering down to look at the woman in Roy's arms.

The boy immediately shifted and pushed himself backwards, his eyes glued to her and aglow with alarm.

Seeing this, Hohenheim quickly jogged over to the boy and crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his metal shoulder. "Are you alright, son?"

"Y-yeah," came the quick reply, his eyes still staring down the pair.

Rocking him gently using the hand on the boy's shoulder, Hohenheim drew his attention back to himself by saying, "It's alright, Alphonse. We've taken care of everything here."

"Taken care of…" he mused as his eyes once again wandered over to them, then slowly up to Roy's face.

The two shared a brief exchange of glances before the Hohenheim interrupted and said, "Let's get you two checked out first before we start answering questions, Alphonse. A lot has happened that you are not aware of." Turning to the girl, he then asked, "Are you able to stand, miss?"

The girl, May, nodded her head vigorously and replied, "Yes, Mr. Hohenheim."

"Alright. In that case, I would like for the two of you to make your way down to the basement. I have a few supplies there you could use for your alkahestry."

"Yes, sir," she replied obediently as she turned her focus back to Alphonse, who in turn had his eyes on his father.

"I'll be down in a few minutes," Hohenheim reassured as he rose to his feet, offering a hand to the suit of armor.

When Alphonse took the hand offered with his glove, he allowed Hohenheim to help him up to his feet. As he straightened his legs, however, Roy immediately noticed that his knees where shaking, a sign that his soul was still quivering within him. Seeing the looks he was given, he straightened himself up and willed his knees to stop, the clanking noise made when they clashed together stopping just moments after. Looking down at his father, he nodded and murmured, "Okay. I'll… I'll see you in a few minutes then."

May then took his gloved hand between his. Hearing his arm move, his head immediately whipped around in alarm. Once his eyes settled on the young girl, however, he relaxed. The two shared a silent exchange, after which she nodded reassuringly and began to guide him out of the room. But before he reached the door frame and ducked to avoid it, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his soul-fire eyes falling on the pair a third time.

After giving them an affirming nod and watching them disappear, Hohenheim briskly turned on his heels and strode over to Roy again, crouching down next to him. Feeling an overwhelming sense of alarm as he recalled the man's previous actions, Roy instinctively maneuvered her away with one arm and broadened his shoulders, slightly shielding her from him.

The action, however, did not seem to faze the man. "No doubt it's trying to right itself after what I had done, conversing with the soul of the woman," Hohenheim muttered as he watched her face, seeing her eyes moving rapidly beneath her closed lids. "But as long as her body sleeps, it won't do any harm."

"What exactly did you do," Roy asked warily.

"I just stunned it," the man replied indifferently. "Similar to the technique I used earlier. There had to be something that had to have been done."

"And when it wakes up," Roy questioned as he eyed the man with suspicion. "What will be done then?"

Hohenheim did not immediately respond as he continued to watch her, his look never once wavering. After a few moments, he muttered, "It's best that we get your hand looked at, Colonel. The sooner we tend to it, the less likely there will be any permanent damage."

"My hand…" Looking down at the hand of the arm he had wrapped around her, Roy realized that it was bright red and very swollen, with a few spots that had begun to grow dark and purple. The longer he looked at it, the more he realized it had begun to throb and ache. Honestly, he had completely forgotten about the fractures after everything that had happened. Once the adrenaline kicked in, everything had gone numb…

Without another word, the man took Roy's hand between his, aggravating it and forcing him to clench his jaw to muffle his pained gasp. Taking great care in handling it, Van Hohenheim maneuvered it into one hand while placing the other atop it. Just as Roy was about to ask what the plan was, a series of red sparks ignited around the man's grasp. A beat later, the pain of having his bones migrating and moving became all too apparent, causing him to begin to pull away.

"Don't," Hohenheim muttered sternly as he tightened his grip on Roy's hand. "Don't move or it will complicate matters."

Roy froze and bit his tongue, turning his focus to the woman whose body was half on his lap, her head now against his shoulder, her lips still moving in silent conversation.

"Any relation?"

Hearing the question, Roy's attention snapped back over to the man, whose eyes were now focused on him. "Excuse me," he asked with a small wince, feeling one of the bones slowly roll back into place.

Nodding toward Riza, he again asked, "Any relation…? A Friend…? Lover-"

"Sub _ord_ inate," Roy was quick to answer, cutting him off as another flash of heat and pain throbbed through his hand.

His glance seemed skeptical, but he kept any arguing thoughts to himself as he once again looked down at her, seeing her face twist and lip twitch agitatedly. Following his gaze, Roy too looked down again just as her breathing slowed and the 'conversation' supposedly stopped.

"I apologize."

Looking up again, he saw that Hohenheim's focus was now on him, his expression sorrowful. When Roy moved to address him, the blond man interjected by shaking his head. "Had I incapacitated Pride sooner, or had I not provoked it, this would not have happened."

"How so," Roy asked slowly, warily.

Again the man shook his head. "I'm afraid the story is a bit too long to be shared at this time," he said as he loosed his grip on Roy's hand.

Glancing down at it, he saw that the red alchemic energy had died, leaving his hand almost feeling rejuvenated and fresh. Pulling it away, he slowly turned it and examined it with awe, carefully flexing his fingers and digits. It was if it had never been broken.

This man was on a level completely different than what Roy had previously thought. He had apparently taken on Pride twice, having come out as the victor both times, and had used some form of alchemy to completely heal his hand.

 _Now_ he understood why Pride had been so afraid of him.

* * *

"So that's what happened," the short-haired apparition mused as it stared absently into the darkness that surrounded them. "I was dying… and then _you_ happened to come along." Turning to look over its shoulder at her, Riza saw it narrow its eyes resentfully toward her.

Crossing her arms, she held her ground and retorted, "And you took my body for yourself. I'm surprised you aren't thanking me or showing any gratitude for being alive, seeing that you've taken almost every opportunity you can to get us killed."

The Homunculus laughed. "If I wanted us both dead, it would have been done a long time ago. I'm merely testing my opponent." With a smirk, it added, "And right now _I'm_ winning."

"So this is all just a game to you," Riza asked as she clenched her fists. "Attacking that man, _attacking Alphonse_?"

"Oh relax," Pride replied irritably as it rolled its eyes. "The boy will be fine."

"How can you say that he'll 'fine,'" she objected as she took a step toward it. "What you showed him was cruel-"

"I've only shown him what he's seen before," Pride answered as its grin widened. "I merely added my own words and flavor to it by manipulating those memories of his.

"The boy's been through a lot. It's _perfect_ to exploit."

Visions of that giant, looming Gate entered her mind as Pride began to recall the dream. Visions of it and the skin and bones boy that sat beneath it, his long, straw-like hair cascading down his shoulders and back. "Wait," Riza said slowly as the images played through her mind again and again, "You mean what you had showed him… He had seen that before."

"That's right," it said as it crossed its arms. "The boy's soul has traveled to the Gate. No doubt his body has been trying to reclaim it."

"Why would you show him that," she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "Why would you taunt him with something like that knowing what you projected to him was all just a dream?"

It had shown him and twisted it around into a vision of what he had wanted, what he hoped would be returned. It dangled his body in front of him and tempted him with it, played with his mind for its own amusement.

Its depravity seemed to have no end.

"Because why wouldn't I," it stated simply, as if the question could possibly have no complex answers. "I saw the opportunity and I seized it."

"So all of that was just to get back at Van Hohenheim, by going through and manipulating his son," Riza asked, more appalled by its responses with every passing second.

Cocking its head slightly, it smirked and said, "You could say that, I suppose; although it wouldn't be the complete truth."

"And what does that mean," Riza pressed as she narrowed her eyes.

"Don't you remember," it teased. "After all, you were there too."

Clinging to the fragmented memories of the dream inflicted upon Alphonse by the Homunculus, Riza searched through them frantically, trying to find meaning in its words.

There was one, crucial element that immediately stuck out to her.

"You manipulated the image of his body to tell him that 'Amestris would burn,'" she replied definitively. "Based on what I know regarding whatever you Homunculi and 'Father' have planned, the 'Day of Reckoning' is one where your years of hard work and planning will fall into place.

"So why inform the enemy of something so crucial and sensitive, unless to foil your own plan?"

Its dark laugh in response threw her off. With a grin, it answered, "That's the exact opposite of what I have in mind. We _want_ them to know, because now that they do they are morally obliged to participate."

Casting it a wary glance, she replied, "So how does telling them lock them into participating?"

"Because with so many lives at stake, they cannot help but stay behind and fight a losing battle," it explained. "They are obliged to cooperate in their inevitable demise."

"You speak as if you've already won," Riza objected.

"That's because we already have," it replied with a smirk.

* * *

It had seemed like hours before Hohenheim made an appearance again after instructing Roy to remain with Riza's body, walking into the room with his hands shoved into his pockets; although, neither May nor Alphonse had accompanied him… Catching Roy's stare, he made his way over toward them. He crouched next to the couch he had laid her on and grabbed hold of her arm. No doubt feeling Roy's eyes on him, he muttered, "I have an idea that could solve all of this."

He then pushed back the sleeve of her shirt and exposed her arm. Turning it over, he gripped it tightly. Moments later, Roy saw what appeared to be her veins enlarge and protrude from her arm, their color turning from blue to a light red. Then, he watched as the red began to pulsate rhythmically. Looking up, saw that Hohenheim's hand had begun to glow a dull red. When he finally gazed up at him, Hohenheim gave him a small, reassuring smile and explained, "I'm going to draw the Stone into myself and fight it there."

Eyeing him skeptically, Roy muttered, "Do you expect you'll win?"

He moved his shoulders up and down, as his soft smile faltered. "It's impossible to say until I engage it," he said, his eyes still glued to her arm. "There is always a chance that it will consume me and take the souls within me into itself… Or there is a chance that I will emerge victorious and will have claimed them."

"You say that you can claim the souls," Roy asked as he narrowed his eyes, "How?"

The man looked up at him and opened his mouth to say something, when Pride's eyes suddenly flew open and she bolted upright, digging the nails of her free hand into his arm as a flurry of shadows followed suit and pierced through it.

Relatively unfazed by it, Van Hohenheim looked up at her, his calm demeanor unwavering.

Narrowing her eyes, she growled, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm taking back this woman's body from you," he replied without hesitation, "And freeing her from your grasp."

"Go right ahead then," she replied with a grin as the shadows slowly withdrew themselves from his arm. "Just know that you will be left with a lifeless shell of a body the moment you finish."

Upon hearing this, the man instantly let go and retracted his hand, an explosion of sparks erupting from his arm as it healed from the shadows' wounds.

Pleased by this display, she purred, "You are far too soft, aren't you, Van Hohenheim?"

"You're trying to back us into a corner, aren't you," Hohenheim calmly asked the Homunculus, dodging the question entirely.

Smiling widely, she feigned innocence and asked, "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Dangling the woman in front of us as if she were some sort of prize," the man said, his mood turning sour.

"If that is what it takes to remain alive and intact, then so be it," she replied. "You can't tell me you wouldn't do the same?"

"I don't play with human lives that way," he retorted with disgust.

"Mm, I love your choice of words. 'That way.' Care to explain," she taunted amusedly.

"Right now you are merely serving to twist my words," he responded crudely. "I do not have to answer to anything you are saying."

"I was merely trying to conjure up discussion," the Homunculus replied with false hurt. "After all, I would love to hear how you use those precious human souls for your own power—"

"Don't you ever say that," Hohenheim growled. "You know _nothing_ of these souls and their capabilities."

"Struck a nerve, have I," she fired back, enjoying the reaction he had.

Realizing this, he eased up and sat up straight, his eyes narrowed with dislike. "You're right," he said at last. "You have struck a nerve. But," he continued, ignoring the smile she gave him, "I will not condemn you nor fight back against you in that manner. Instead, I will only hope that you could one day understand what it means to harbor so many precious souls."

She scoffed mockingly at the response, disappointed that he was no longer willing to play her game. "These souls are only meant to be fuel. They are only precious in the sense that they sustain me."

"That's because you do not understand the value of a complete soul," Hohenehim countered, "Seeing how you reacted when you encountered the soul of my son."

She clicked her tongue agitatedly. "His soul is no different than any other."

"Oh," the blond man said with feigned surprise, "I'd beg to differ, seeing that you were unable to complete whatever you had attempted before.

"Your overreaction to encountering him suggests that there is something more to his soul… Something that even _you_ do not comprehend."

"Hardly," came the blunt reply, "What happened then was simply triggered, bringing back such fond memories that you and I shared."

"Is that it," he asked mockingly as he tilted his head, his expression suggesting that he had realized something. "You remembered our little chat and you had a meltdown?" When she narrowed her eyes and made a move toward him, he chuckled. "Now I can see what happened! Even the illustrious Pride is not immune to everything."

"And just what is that supposed to mean," she hissed venomously, crimson eyes narrowed with disdain.

"I'll let you mull it over while I check on my son, O' mortal Pride," came his response as he got to his feet, his face glowing. "I want you to think about what will be your inevitable demise."

* * *

Taking a ragged, shaking breath, Edward Elric leaned heavily against the wall and dropped the torch he had been carrying. Willing himself to look up as it rolled away, his dulled golden eyes watched as the flame flickered and hissed in response to its contact with the ground.

It wouldn't be long now until it would burn out, and he had yet to find another one since he had begun his journey down into the earthy tunnel. And, unfortunately, he had yet to find any tunnels or staircases that could have possibly led to freedom.

Sliding down the side of the rocky wall, he rested his head back against the stones and gasped as another wave of pain ripped through him. Reaching clumsily up to clench the wound shut, he silently damned himself for waiting too long to do so. Finding the open wound beneath his shirt, he pressed his hand over it, noticing that the bleeding had at least slowed. He tried hard not to think about the fact that it could have been because he had lost a lot of blood beforehand, and that his body was simply reacting to it by stopping blood flow to his injured side.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled deeply and felt himself begin to relax. Maybe… Maybe he could just sleep for a while. It couldn't hurt after all…

Feeling himself drifting further and further, a sense of peace washed over Edward as his breathing slowed and his heart beats began to grow more and more infrequent. Yeah… Just for a little while—

Suddenly a jolt raced through him, forcing his eyes open as he gasped loudly in realization. What was he doing?! He couldn't fall asleep… Not like that.

Moving his head to the side, he eyed the still-burning torch, noticing that the flame had grown smaller and duller. From the looks of it, he contemplated, there was still enough left to… Reaching out clumsily, he grasped the middle of the torch and tried lift it, much to the exasperation of his exhausted muscles. When he had raised it a few inches from the ground, his fingers cramped and the torch clattered to the ground, rolling further away from him, the flame snapping and cracking bitterly.

Closing his eyes again, he strained to listen past the small crackles the fire produced, trying to determine if he could hear anything else. But there was nothing.

Just silence…

Leaning his head back against the rock wall, he clumsily reached up and gripped his left side tightly.

He needed to save his energy; just enough to get back on his feet and keep walking. After taking a deep breath and holding it, he slowly exhaled as the pulsating of his heart rang in his ears, rhythmically beating an almost hypnotic tune.

He would just rest for a couple of minutes, he promised himself. Just a few more… to… save his strength…

* * *

Immediately after the confrontation, Hohenheim excused himself to go back down to the basement to retrieve May and Alphonse, for they had yet to reappear. Roy didn't blame them, for what child would want to return to the presence of a monster that had attacked him so violently? At least, he was thankful, the boy had gotten to his feet on his own; the young girl as well. As soon as Hohenheim emerged with them, he would check to be certain that they were both okay…

Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, Pride was quick to get to her feet, hurriedly making her way over to the home's front door. Jumping up to his, Roy followed after her just as she opened the front door and began to step outside.

"Where do you think you're going," Roy growled as he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop and turn toward him.

"What," she said with a smirk. "You've taken to babysitting _me_ now?"

"Someone has to," Roy replied as he eyed her critically.

She raised a brow tauntingly and replied, "If you must know, I have some business to attend to."

When she began to turn away, he tightened his grip on her wrist, causing her to cast him an annoyed glance. "So you're just going to run off after a threat like that."

"That was hardly a threat," she replied, though her tone was harsh and full of loathing. "He's simply playing my game; trying to bury doubt within my mind. Unfortunately for him, I'm too smart to fall for such a dirty trick."

He almost laughed in response. He had seen the hesitance reflected in those crimson eyes. She knew damn well that he was telling the truth. And, he decided, he couldn't wait to discover that truth, especially if that sped up the process of expelling that godforsaken demon from the Lieutenant's body.

"So are you honestly expecting me to just let you go," he asked sternly.

"Of course," came the blunt reply as the shadows slowly began to emerge from near her feet. "Or, we could do this the hard way, where I incapacitate you again and leave you behind. You may decide."

"Or I could go with you," he suggested crudely, "To make sure you don't do any harm to the Lieutenant's body in your little 'quest.'"

"Yes, because your presence was so helpful these past few times," she retorted.

"You're the one that insisted I come," Roy bit back. "Or have you already forgotten your promise to use me as a shield?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," she replied. "And sometime you might actually be beneficial in that position, lest it rains."

Just as he opened his mouth to counter back against her weak attack, she jerked her arm out of his grasp and silently made her way down the front steps of the house. Before pursuing her, he cast one last glance over his shoulder to see if someone was there watching. Unfortunately, however, he had no such luck. With a frustrated growl, he slammed the door shut behind him and jogged down the stairs, falling into step beside her.

"That was subtle," she muttered sarcastically.

"I had to somehow let them know that we were going out," came his 'witty' reply.

She answered with a scoff, but said nothing more as she quickened her pace, leading them into the lush and dense brush just down from the house they had been occupying.

"So where exactly are we going," he demanded after they had pushed through the first line of the forest's defense.

"As much as you'd like to think that you're my entire world, you are not," she began. "In addition to keeping tabs on you, I must also patrol the catacombs beneath Central City in order to ensure that they are unoccupied.

"And if they're occupied," Roy muttered.

"Then I 'unoccupy' them myself," was the short reply.

After that they walked in relative silence for a few minutes, weaving and walking through the forest as the light of the sun slowly began to wane in favor of the night's full moon. His every attempt at trying to speak was immediately shot down, her irritation more and more apparent with every effort.

Just as he was about to claim that she was leading them nowhere, they pushed through the brush and came upon a small cavern opening. Pausing, he allowed her to step forward and stop in front of its gated entrance, taking note that there was a lock on the door. To combat this, the shadows at her feet slowly wound and snaked their way around the fencing and pierced the lock, shattering it.

Taking hold of the door and swinging it open, she looked over her shoulder, most likely trying to see if he had had second thoughts about their journey. When he conveyed no such expression, she begrudgingly ducked into the small cavern and down the stone steps that were immediately following the opening.

When they reached the bottom of the steps and plunged themselves into darkness, Roy blindly reached out and grasped the wall. Slowly inching his way forward, his hand suddenly came across a mantelpiece. Moving his hand along it, he found what he had hoped for.

Grasping the lantern that had long burned out, he reached into his pocket and produced one of his ignition gloves. After feeling around for the general location of the wick, he snapped his fingers and produced a spark, causing it to ignite.

Pleased with himself, he looked up to see Pride watching him, seemingly unimpressed by his alchemic display. But after watching the flickering flame for a few moments, she smiled lightly and said, "I appreciate the light. It makes my shadows a lot more efficient."

He watched as the shadows unwound themselves and began to slither in opposite directions, causing him to involuntarily shudder. Just remembering them wrapping themselves around him, feeling the pressure enveloping him...

It was nauseating…

They stood in a silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, neither one making a move, aside from the shadows that seemed to be continually generated at her feet. As he watched them and tried to suppress a shudder, he muttered, "How far can they go?"

"Hmm," she responded, eyes still kept forward and down the tunnel.

"The shadows," he clarified. "How far can they go?"

"You could say they are infinite," she replied matter-of-factly. "After all, there will always be darkness."

"Unless there is light," Roy corrected her.

"Yes… but even the smallest flame will cast enormous shadows," she retorted back, a smirk playing on her lips. A few beats later, however, he saw her eyes widen slightly as the smirk vanish. Furrowing his brow at this sudden change, he opened his mouth to ask when she cut him off.

"The boy, Alphonse, said that his brother was in the North, correct?"

Wrinkling his brow, Roy slowly replied, "Yes… But what does that have to do with anything?"

"It seems that Alphonse has been ill-informed," came the blunt reply as she slowly turned her head toward him, "Because right now I'm looking at him, lying in a pool of his own blood within the catacombs beneath Central City."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Alright! The Parental!RoyEd begins_ _ **now**_ _! So while I said that there may be a few confusing points this chapter and the last (like Alphonse "going to the gate" was actually a dream devised by Pride purely to test Alphonse and inform him of the Promised Day), I've slowly begun to weave them together so that they make sense in the coming chapters (such as Alphonse's state and, especially, what Hohenheim was hinting that would lead to "Pride's Demise," and how that ties into Alphonse and why it differs from their encounter in Brotherhood.) So hang tight because all will be answered in time!_

 _Also, I hope I portrayed everyone in character! Let me know if you have any questions/comments/concerns! And thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I really appreciate it!_


	9. Advancement

Alphonse could feel May's eyes on him the entire time as they descended the home's steps and headed into the basement. Watching him as if she were expecting something from him, waiting…

When they at last reached the bottom of the steps, Alphonse could no longer keep himself composed anymore. His armored, hollow knees gave out beneath him, and he crashed to the ground, slamming his hands down on the pavement so that he could support himself.

Almost immediately May was at his side, placing a small hand on his shoulder as she cried, "Mr. Alphonse!"

"I'm… I'm okay, May," he replied, trying, but failing, at keeping his voice level and calm. He wasn't, _couldn't_ , be okay! Not after what he saw, witnessed, experienced…

That was _Pride_. The First Homunculus. There was no way it could have been Lieutenant Hawkeye all along… Not with the way she treated them before. She was genuine, kind; but _this_ , this was completely different.

It had invaded his armor. Invaded his _soul_. And for a moment, he thought it had transported him back to the Gate. But now, as his storm of thoughts swirled viciously in his mind, he reconsidered what he had seen and experienced.

It was impossible for it to travel to the Gate with him unless a transmutation had been performed. And he was certain that neither he nor anyone else in that room had activated an array.

No… It had invaded his mind. And if it had… Then what had it meant by saying that Amestris would burn…

"No you're not," she protested as she maneuvered around in front of him. Taking his helmet between her hands, she lifted it so that she could peer into his soul-fire eyes. "Please… Please tell me what's wrong…"

Realizing that the young girl would refuse to budge on the topic, he relented and sighed. Casting his soul-fire glance toward her, he began, "It told me that Amestris would soon burn."

Furrowing her brows, May drew back and asked, "What does that mean, exactly?"

Shaking his metal head back and forth, Alphonse murmured, "I don't know. But it sounded confident in itself. Like it knew that they would win."

"Did you know," came her next question, which came out as a quiet whisper. "About what she was?"

The question caught Alphonse by surprise. At first glance; no, he didn't know. And judging by how quickly it had showed its nature, it was clear that the Homunculus had not dwelt inside the Lieutenant for long; its arrogance allowing it to shine through very quickly. But even after that, it was unclear whether or not he would have known, had it not revealed itself after May had attacked it…

Shaking his head, he answered, "No, I didn't. But then again, she wasn't like that before." When May shot him a confused look, he explained, "The Lieutenant Hawkeye we know is very kind and caring. And this… This wasn't her."

After searching Alphonse's soul-fire eyes for a few moments, May frowned and asked, "Are you sure?"

* * *

"We need to go after him," Roy gasped as he rushed past Pride. When he had taken a few steps past her, however, a shadow shot up and blocked his way. With a frustrated snarl, he whirled around to face her.

"Oh, did you want to walk one hundred miles to retrieve him," she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words, "Because if so, that's fine with me."

"One hundred miles," he echoed back as the reality hit him. The boy was lying, _dying_ , completely out of their reach.

"He's below Central Command," she reminded him irritably. "Not just around the block."

"We still need to do _something_ ," he objected as he side-stepped the shadow and took a few steps into the darkness. "We need to call for help or… or-" A sense of panic began to rise within him as visions of the golden-haired, lying motionlessly in a sea of redness, began to flash through his mind, his heart pounding fiercely in his ears as he was struck with the gravity of the situation.

He whirled back around to face her, to see Riza's face.

He wanted her to tell him that everything would be fine; that they would figure something out to save the boy. He wanted _Riza_ to tell him that with her firm, yet calm tone she used when neither one of them was strong enough to give in and admit they were in over their heads.

He wanted her to reassure him like she had when he stumbled to her apartment at two in the morning after he found out about Hughes's passing. To know that she was there and that everything would be okay.

He… He just wanted Riza back…

Instead he was faced with blood-red eyes and a smirk that nearly drove him mad. It didn't care. It didn't care one bit that the boy was dying. In fact, he suspected as the crimson eyes continued to stare him down, it was probably enjoying the sight.

Feeling that loathing and hate begin to resurface again, Roy tried to push it back down in order to focus on the task at hand. Right now Edward Elric was the most important object of his concerns. Not the Homunculus he had been forced to tag along with in order to 'protect.'

Immediately pushing the thought away, he hastily reminded himself that it was _Riza_ he was looking after. Not the Homunculus… not Pride. Riza.

Still, he couldn't help but notice how his mind had wandered so quickly to _it_ , rather than focusing on the fact that it had taken possession of _her_ body.

It was almost as if… he had forgotten that she had even existed…-

"Fine..."

* * *

Just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness again, a soft, yet distinct noise filled Edward's ears. Forcing himself to remain awake, he strained to listen, the sound growing louder and louder. It almost sounded like the wind…

When he wearily opened his eyes, he found him face-to-face with a large, red eye. He was surprised to say the least, and yet, his body did not react to that fear. Perhaps it was because it lost its will for self-preservation, or perhaps it no longer cared what happened to it. All he knew was that the longer he watched it, the more he found it reminded him of something…

"What're you lookin' at… bastard," he slurred as he peered at it through half-lidded eyes.

It did not respond. Instead, the corner of its eye curled upward, as if it were smirking at and mocking him.

Now he realized what it reminded him of… The Gate of Truth. Chuckling through the lightheadedness and the delirium it had begun to cause, he cockily muttered, "Are you gonna take me, then? How about… we make an equivalent exchange…" Raising his flesh arm, he pointed a trembling, paled finger at it and wheezed, "I'll give you my life… and you give Al… his body back…"

It narrowed, its pupil flicking back and forth as it studied him, possibly considering his proposal. But why consider it? His life was surely enough for Al's body... Then, black tendrils flowed out of the darkness and wrapped around his arms and legs, lifting him up. When his head lolled back, the shadows gently pushed it up to steady and even it as they slowly began to withdraw into the darkness.

"So then," he murmured as his consciousness began to flee him once more, "I'll… take that as a yes…"

* * *

"I have him," Pride grumbled with annoyance as the shadows began to withdraw and vanish at her feet.

Hearing the tone with which she had responded, Roy completely forgot how easily she had agreed to retrieve the boy, his agitating flipping right-side up again. "You say that as if picking him up and bringing him back here is such a hassle," he muttered. But why the _hell_ was it taking its time?! "Are you going to move any faster," he added through gritted teeth as images of the injured youth flashed through his mind.

Crimson eyes narrowed, but she did not turn around to face him, keeping her focus on the darkened tunnel before her. "I suggest you don't bite the hand that helps you," she quipped agitatedly, "Lest you want it to completely abandon the notion of helping at all."

He bit his tongue, knowing in the back of his mind that it was right.

"Besides," she continued, "If I were to move faster than I am now, the boy would probably bleed to death." Hearing his strangled gasp, she turned toward him and eyed him as if he were an idiot. "I'm holding his wounds closed in addition to carrying him back here. It requires an immense amount of concentration."

"And yet here you are, talking up a storm," he replied dryly.

Still refusing to turn toward him, she moved a shoulder up and down and said, "I was simply answering what you asked of me."

Taking this as a sign that the conversation was over, Roy bit back the urge to say anything else, instead focusing his energy onto the boy that was slowly, yet surely, making his way toward them.

Sensing his compliance, she muttered, "You might want to take a seat, because it's going to be a while."

* * *

"What do you mean," Alphonse asked as he eyed May with uncertainty.

"What I mean is… Do you know that it was her the entire time and _not_ the Homunculus?"

If Alphonse had a physical form, he would have scrunched his face at her in utter confusion. Of course it had been her the entire time. Lieutenant Hawkeye was nothing like that. Not in the very least!

Obviously sensing his confusion, she elaborated, "Has anyone else you've known been able to sense a Homunculus's presence in a human body?"

"Not that I know of," Alphonse answered as he continued to watch may warily, not understanding where she was going with the conversation.

"Then how could you know," she asked softly, as if easing him into the idea that the Lieutenant had been one of the bad guys all along.

"I… I guess I don't know," he admitted as he looked down at his gloved hands. Clenching them into fists, he muttered, "But it happened to Ling… His body was taken by a Homunculus. We knew him before that. He's completely different know.

"That nature is not easy to hide," he argued.

Just as May was about to speak up, he jumped, hearing a set of footsteps descending down the staircase. His soul tensed, ready for whatever it was. Alphonse relaxed, however, when it was his father that appeared.

Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, Hohenheim immediately zeroed in on him and dropped to his knees beside Alphonse, putting a hand on his metal shoulder. "Are you alright, son?"

"I'm… alright," he admitted. "But the Lieutenant; how is—?"

"Taken care of," Hohenheim began to explain.

"W-wait," Alphonse yelped as images of Lieutenant Hawkeye, limp and unmoving in the Colonel's arms flooded his mind. "You didn't—"

Raising his brows in understanding, his father uttered, "If you are thinking that I destroyed it, please push the thought from your mind, Alphonse. I am not capable of such a thing… Unless I were to take the woman's life as well."

A beat after he had finished his sentence, they heard a door slamming above them. Screwing his eyes closed, Hohenheim sighed heavily and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them again and said, "But… There is something that you should know, Alphonse…"

* * *

Hours had passed, and to Roy it felt like days. Every attempt at convincing Pride to loosen its grip on the Lieutenant and allow her to speak to him were shot down by the Homunculus, forcing them to sit in relative silence, the only sound being the gentle swishes generated by the shadows as they continued to draw the boy toward them.

He was just about to ask again how much longer it would be before she interrupted him, uttering, "There."

Roy's head snapped up in time to see a mess of golden hair against the darkness ahead of them. No longer able to contain his anxiety, he rushed forward as the shadows lowered the boy to the ground.

"Fullmetal," Roy cried as he lowered himself down onto his knees. "Damn it, Fullmetal, answer me!"

The golden-haired boy did not respond, instead opting to take a shallow, gasping breath. At least he was breathing… Taking a moment to quickly survey the boy, Roy saw that his left side was covered in a mat of dried, cracked blood that clung to his shirt in large patches. And on his right… The automail arm that had helped him gain his state name was absent, causing Roy's heart to sink.

He had been running around the tunnels completely defenseless. If they hadn't gone down there and discovered him, there was no telling what could have happened to the boy…

"Come on, Edward," he quietly begged as he looked up at the boy's ghostly visage. "Please…"

"Must've worked… 'Cause this is definitely hell," came the boy's weak, muted reply to Roy's gentle pleading.

"Fullmetal," Roy gasped as Edward slowly opened his hollow, golden eyes.

Rolling his head to the side, he blinked slowly and uttered, "What're… You doin' here… Bastard...?"

Exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Roy found himself silently thanking whatever higher forces there were that the boy was at least aware enough to still be sharp-tongued. "Don't speak," he uttered as he tucked his arms underneath Edward and slowly, carefully hoisted him up, taking care to not jostle him too much. "Just rest. We're going to get you out of here."

Rising to his feet, he began to turn away before he realized that Pride was not following, the shadows around her feet still unwinding and untangling themselves. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Are you coming?"

Casting her crimson-eyed gaze toward him, she replied, "I'll let you two catch up." When he opened his mouth in rebuttal, she smirked. "If you assume that I'm going to leave, then you clearly don't remember my promise to keep an eye on you. You must remember, however, that I am also tasked with guarding these tunnels.

"My time was interrupted by a menial task, and now I must ensure that the tunnels were not infiltrated while my focus was elsewhere."

Roy hesitated, debating whether or not to argue with the Homunculus about that 'menial task.' But just as he was about to, the warm stickiness that coated his hands drew him back to reality, reminding him that at that moment, Edward's life was far more precious than settling an argument. Opting to bite his own tongue, he turned away and growled, "Then if that's the case, I will see you later."

As he began to ascend the steps and into the night air above, he heard her chuckle dismissively, causing the anger within him to bubble again. Again, however, he forced himself to push it down as Edward's breaths quickened. Hastening his pace, Roy pushed himself through the brush, holding the boy closer to himself as he ran into the darkness, and toward his father and brother.

* * *

Awakened by the familiar sound, Father slowly opened his eyes to see that his throne room had grown darker.

Realizing that he was awake, a voice purred, _"It appears that Envy did not do its job. As a result, I am now in possession of four of our precious sacrifices, all within the city of Liore."_

Frowning, Father mumbled, "And Colonel Mustang?"

" _Still beneath my jurisdiction_ ," Pride answered with a hint of arrogance in its voice.

Relaxing, Father eased back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully, "Thank you, my child. It seems that, despite being thrust into a new body, your loyalty and diligence have not been altered."

" _Of course, Father_ ," Pride answered. " _As I always will_."

"Excellent," Father replied with a sharp nod. "As that is the case, I would like for you to finish your duties and quickly return to the Colonel. I fear that leaving our sacrifices to their own devices for too long could result in… unwanted chatter amongst themselves."

" _Understood_ ," Pride answered.

Father closed his eyes again and listened as Pride withdrew. When it at last had departed, he opened his eyes again and muttered, "Did you hear that, Envy?"

"Yeah, yeah." Stepping out of the darkness on the opposite side of the room, the Homunculus grumbled, "I heard."

"Pride is no longer of use to me in this current state," Father elaborated as he kept his eyes fixated on the spot where Pride had manifested itself. "You know what you must do, then?"

Snickering as it beckoned the two human-chimera hybrids forward from the darkness, it cracked its fists and grinned wickedly. "Oh yeah… I've been looking forward to this."

* * *

 **A/N:** _Many apologies are in order for my lack of an update! Between traveling, school, and my other stories, I haven't had a lot of time to update this story. However, now that school is in full swing, I have an idea of what my updates will look like. That being said, I do not plan on abandoning this story, nor do I plan on making it anything like_ Hellbound _._

 _Please let me know if anyone seems OOC. It's so hard writing Roy in this story because I just imagine that Pride's constant picking (and what its done in general) would have him growing more and more bitter and agitated. So if something seems out of place and OOC PLEASE let me know._

 _Thank you to everyone that favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. The next update will be a turning point in the story._


	10. Change

**A/N:** _You'll notice that I've replaced 'it' in reference to Pride with 'her' or 'she.' This is intentional because of reasons to be explained next chapter (as well as Pride's behavior). Sorry for the wait, and I hope you enjoy!_

 _If anything seems rushed or OOC, please let me know!_

* * *

Happy to have relayed the message to Father, Pride decided that, for the time being, her work was done. Turning on her heels, she strolled over to the steps that had led herself and the Colonel into the tunnels and began to climb up. When she reached the top, however, a sharp pain shot through her head. Stumbling slightly, she reached out and braced herself against the tunnel wall.

The voices within her Philosopher's Stone suddenly seemed to become more lively, their shrills and shrieks louder and more defined than they had before. It nearly seemed as if they were forming proper words… She growled and shook her head, pushing them back as she finished her ascent.

After replacing the door that had led to the tunnel, she hastily began to make her way back to the house Van Hohenheim had secured. Why the speed, she did not know. But for whatever reason, _something_ within her was nagging her to get there quickly.

 _Help! Save us! PLEASE!_

 _Kill us!_

 _I'm scared!_

She staggered a few more steps before she could no longer take it. Slapping a hand to her temple, she snarled, "What are you doing?!" as the voices grew louder and louder. Never before had they formed such complex words and phrases. At best, their screams normally would be composed of unintelligible shrieks and the occasional wail for help.

It took a few moments, but at long last the Lieutenant's voice broke through the cacophony, clearer than the rest as she said, " _I don't know… The souls seem… unsettled_."

With a low growl, she dug her nails into her temple and snapped, "Then tell them to _shut up_."

" _You know I don't have the capability of doing that,"_ came the Lieutenant's worn reply.

Leaning against a tree, she took a few deep breaths and massaged her temple, pushing against the Stone's force as the souls' screams seemingly reached their maximum volume. Then, all at once they silenced themselves. Pulling her hand away from her head, Pride held her breath, searching for anymore signs of upheaval. After the souls had settled for over a minute, she willed herself to continue on to the house, uneasy about the momentous ordeal…

* * *

The instant she walked through the door the people seated in the middle of the room grew quiet, their eyes immediately honing in on her. Keeping her eyes focused on them as well, she slowly took attendance of everyone there. In addition to the Colonel, Alphonse, the Xingese girl, and Van Hohenheim, there was another. After a quick confirmation from the Lieutenant, the young girl was immediately identified as Winry Rockbell, the long-time friend of Edward and Alphonse.

When Pride's eyes caught the young girl's, the blue eyes instantly looked away and focused down on Edward, her lips pressing together with discomfort. A small smile played across Pride's lips. It appeared that they told the young girl about her.

Sensing movement over to her left, she saw the Colonel look up at her, though she was surprised to see that his face carried no expression. No resent like she had imagined. No emotion whatsoever.

She quirked a brow in his direction and silently gauged whether or not she would receive a response from him. When he instead opted to look away, she watched him with surprise. But when her eyes scanned down to what was on the floor in the center of them, she began to understand.

After dealing with the souls' turmoil, the idea of Edward Elric now being among them had escaped her momentarily. Now that she saw him lying recumbent between them, the memories flooded back. It would make sense that the Colonel would be tending to the boy, especially after the way he had reacted in the tunnels.

Curious to see what was going on, she took a step forward, but was stopped when Van Hohenheim raised a bloodied hand in protest. "I suggest you stay back," he said bluntly as he eyed her critically. "You are not needed."

She watched him back, but the man did not waver. After a silent standoff, she decided that it wasn't worth her time. With a mild scoff, she turned away and made her way over to the staircase. Placing her hand on the railing, she slowly began to ascend the stairs, keeping her eyes locked on gold.

She could see the sadness reflecting in the immortal man's eyes and could almost feel the despair radiating off of him. It didn't surprise her in the least. After all, the boy was critically injured. She wouldn't be surprised if the boy didn't make it to sunrise.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she turned into the closest bedroom and sat down on the edge of the dusty old bed, deciding to ignore the Lieutenant as she begged her to go back downstairs. It seemed that the very thought of losing the boy had driven her to fight back…

Laying back on the bed, she folded her arms behind her head and stared up at the colorless ceiling, her thoughts slowly beginning to wander back to the mind-numbing pain the souls had caused when they acted up just minutes before. As memories of their cries and emotions flooded her mind, a strange pain blossomed in her chest, directly over her heart. Freeing one of her arms, she grabbed a handful of her shirt that laid over her heart and twisted it irritably, wondering why the thought of those souls caused it to ache.

Maybe it was the Lieutenant's emotions playing into it as she continued to protest. Maybe it was the memory of the pain, manifesting now in her chest. Either way, she did not like it.

* * *

"Colonel."

Roy jerked his head up and blinked a few times, trying to chase the exhaustion that had set in away.

Seeing that he had Roy's attention, Hohenheim smiled lightly. Crouching down next to him, the older man turned his attention to Edward, who was lying in the same position as the night before. "Any changes," he asked as he reached forward and lightly pressed a hand to his son's cheek.

"No," Roy answered as he too focused his attention toward Edward. "A little restless at times, though his fever has plateaued."

"I see," Hohenheim muttered as he pulled his hand away, a frown tugging the corners of his lips down. "If it hasn't gotten any worse, though, I'd like to try and move him to a more suitable room later. He should be stable enough to move by then."

"Right," Roy replied. "If you need help moving him, I'm more than happy to."

"That won't be necessary," Hohenheim said as he shook his head. When Roy cast his glance toward him, he explained, "Alphonse and the two young ladies will be helping me with that.

"For now, I'd like for you to keep our 'friend' busy."

"You mean Pride," Roy muttered for clarification.

"Yes," Hohenheim responded. "If you two could go to town for a few supplies, I'd be grateful."

"You also want me to keep it away from Edward, is that correct?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "And the others as well. Right now the young Rockbell girl is still trying to comprehend the concept. With everything that happened last night, I wasn't able to properly address her about the matter again. It's best to do without it here."

"… I understand," Roy said as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Hold on one second," Hohenheim said as he dipped his hand into his pocket. Producing a piece of paper, he held it out to Roy. As he took it, Hohenheim continued, "This has everything I need picked up for Edward's care. The chemist will be closing soon, so I'd recommend going there sooner."

Nodding with affirmation, Roy slipped it into his pocket, only for Hohenheim to quietly add, "And be sure to keep a close eye on our friend. The fact that it brought Edward back so willing suggests that there may be an underlying motive.—" Hearing the sound of footsteps descending the staircase, he looked over his shoulder to see their 'friend' making her way down the stairs, red eyes boring into them.

Getting up to his feet as well, Hohenheim clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled lightly. "Just make sure you get to the chemist first. They should have the antibiotics on that list in stock."

"Alright," Roy replied slowly. But as he began to turn away, he saw the smile vanish from Hohenheim's face, replacing itself with a look of caution. He returned the look with an indiscriminate, sharp nod, dictating to him that he received the message.

After casting one last glance at the sleeping boy sprawled out on the mat they had set down, Roy made his way over to and past Pride, who had stopped and was watching them with her arms folded across her chest.

"You're coming with me," he muttered as he brushed past her, causing her to turn on her heels to follow him.

She quickly fell into step behind him. "Want to keep an eye on me, I see," she replied, a small smirk evident in her tone. So she had heard them…

"Exactly," Roy replied dryly as he opened the door to the home and stepped outside. "It'll also keep you away from them for the time being."

"Keep me away from them," she mused. "Afraid that I'm going to cause them harm?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly as she at last caught up with him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small look of surprise cross her face, though it was concealed moments later. As she fell into rhythm with his footsteps, two paces behind him, he heard her say, "Very well then..."

Surprised that she hadn't tried to automatically challenge the comment, Roy instantly put his guard up, expecting her to fire back with something in addition. When she continued on as if nothing were amiss and remained quiet, he idly began to wonder what she really _was_ planning…

* * *

"I'm surprised she left so willingly," Alphonse observed as he eyed the door the Colonel and Pride disappeared behind.

"It _is_ peculiar," Hohenheim murmured as he scratched his chin, his eyes too focused on the home's door. "It seems more docile now…"

"Do you think what you did is working then," Alphonse asked hopefully as he dipped the cloth into the bucket of water and then rung it out.

"I honestly don't know," he replied as he turned away from the door and knelt down next to Edward. Placing a hand on his eldest son's forehead, he added, "While I would like to think that, I fear that it's still too early to tell."

"What… what did you do," Winry asked slowly as she looked up at Hohenheim.

"It's a bit… complicated," he explained. Tilting his head slightly, he added, "And not something you need to worry about, dear. For now, I would like for us to focus on Edward.

"With this young lady's help," he continued as he gestured to May with his free hand, "I was able to close the wound in his side. But one thing we were unable to do much with was the infection that's currently running rampant through his body. So while they're collecting the medications I requested, I would like for us to continue to monitor him and keep him comfortable." When he pulled his hand away from Edward's forehead and allowed Alphonse to put the damp cloth on it, he nodded and then rose to his feet. Seeing the three pairs of eyes that followed him up, he slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled lightly. "I have to run out for a couple of minutes to check on something. It shouldn't take too long, but while I'm away I'd like for you all to keep an eye on Edward, alright?"

"Sure," Alphonse agreed as he looked up at his father. "Do you need any help?"

"No, no," Hohenheim replied. "Just going to take a walk and network about a few things. After all, I'm still helping with the reconstruction."

"Okay," Alphonse responded as his father walked toward the door.

Stopping with his hand on the handle, he threw one last look over his shoulder toward them, he reiterated, "Remember to change the rags every ten minutes or so. I've been getting water from the pump outside. And again, I'll be back shortly. If something were to happen, I encourage you to run into town to find someone."

"Yes," Alphonse agreed as his father opened the door and slipped out, closing it behind him. Not allowing his thoughts to wander back to the conversation the three of them had the night before, he turned his focus back to Edward. He needed to focus on his brother. Picking up a rag, he began to ball it up in his gloved hands.

"Alphonse," Winry asked quietly as she looked down at Edward, "What is he planning?"

Alphonse froze, his hands hovering over the bucket of water. After a few moments he dipped a second cloth in and began to soak it. Trying to keep his voice even and neutral, he answered, "I can't say. He asked me to promise him that I would keep quiet about it for a while longer."

"Does the Colonel know," she asked as he reached forward and pushed a strand of Edward's hair away from his forehead.

"… No," Alphonse answered as his soul-fire eyes flickered up to May momentarily before returning to his work, "He didn't. He said it was best he didn't know."

"Oh," Winry replied quietly as she drew her hand back, her eyes scanning over Edward again. After remaining silent for a few moments, she added, "I just hope that whatever happens, everything will be okay."

Once the words sank in, Alphonse nodded. "Me too, Winry. Me too…"

* * *

The walk to the local chemist proved to be an awkward one. After the night's events, Roy's mind was constantly on the young man that was laid up at the small residence they were occupying, drawing his attention away from the Homunculus that drifted along beside him. Interestingly enough, she did not seem to want to pry, instead opting to remain as silent as he.

Stealing a glance toward her, he saw her eyes darting back and forth, watching the road ahead of them… but at the same time not. It was difficult for him to explain without saying anything. But something about her expression suggested that while she was watching their path, her mind wandered elsewhere…

A shrill shriek drew Roy's focus away from her and toward a small group of children that ran out in front of them. One of the smallest, a girl looking no older than four years old was trailing behind them. When she had reached the center of the road, her foot came down on her shoelace and she stumbled, tumbling to the ground with a loud wail.

Just as Roy took a step forward to assist the child, he stopped.

Without prompting or hesitation, Pride stepped forward and knelt down next to the child and lifted her up, setting her back down on her feet. Roy saw her red eyes flicker about, observing the various bandages and scratches on the young girl's body, suggesting that it certainly wasn't the first, nor the last, of her falls.

"You need to be more careful," Pride quietly admonished the girl. "Do you want to hurt yourself even more?"

The little girl gave her a toothy grin and tilted her head. "No," she replied in a sing-songy voice. Her eyes then deviated to one of her waiting friends. Raising her hand, she waved and said, "Thank you, lady," before sprinting off to meet the pack of children that awaited her.

When Roy stopped beside Pride, she scoffed. "Stupid child won't listen to a word I said." As she rose to her feet, she saw his bemused expression and shot him a critical look. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied as he shrugged his shoulders. "Just a little surprised that you actually directed your energy toward helping someone."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't see you moving at a breakneck speed so someone had to do it. Otherwise the child was going to scream." When she began to continue back toward their destination, Roy jogged forward to fall into step beside her. After walking side by side in silence, she suddenly turned toward him and snapped, "Will you shut up?!"

Recovering from the initial shock of her sudden outburst, Roy stated, "I didn't say anything."

Blazing red eyes searched his expression, looking for signs of a lie. Then, after not finding what she was looking for, her face softened slightly and she turned away. "My mistake," she muttered. "I thought I heard you say something."

Reaching out to grab her arm as she began to walk away, Roy furrowed his brow and asked, "Is everything alright? What was that—"

She jerked her arm away as his fingers brushed it. Without giving him a second look, she shook her head and said, "It's nothing. The chemist is going to close soon, right?" When he nodded, she quickened her pace and said, "Then let's get going."

Had he not paused for an additional moment as she continued to walk away, Roy almost would have noticed her raising her hand to wipe away a drop of wetness that had spotted her cheek.

* * *

"So this is where you discovered him," Hohenheim muttered as he stooped down and brushed his fingers over the droplets of blood that speckled the tunnel ground. After noting the amount and pattern, he allowed himself to look up and into the darkness. "It' so empty here without you constantly patrolling," he continued, taking to no one in particular, "I wonder what your Father must think of that."

He was met by silence, as he had expected. It was unusual and somewhat alarming that Father had allowed Pride to venture off so far from their home base, even if it had agreed to watch the tunnels from Liore. No matter how much he wracked his brains, however, he still could not figure out what the Homunculus had in mind.

It was as if it were purposefully leaving the tunnels unguarded… As if actively inviting them to advance forward. Edward could have been a consolation prize for all he knew. None of it made any sense…

Racking his fingers through his hair, he got to his feet and looked down the dark tunnels one final time. Sitting and pondering would get him nowhere, he feared. So for the time being, he would have to tend to his son… and keep a close eye on the Homunculus that was in their possession.

Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he turned away from the tunnel and began to ascend the stairs that led outside, shoving the thought to the back of his mind for the time being.

* * *

By the time they had finished running the errands Hohenheim had requested of them, darkness had already begun to set in. With the winter's solstice drawing closer, the days were growing shorter and the nights were growing longer. The perfect time of year for shadows to emerge and embrace the darkness.

When Roy stepped into the bedroom they had designated for Edward, he saw that only Van Hohenheim was present. Upon hearing the Colonel enter, the older man looked over his shoulder and shot him a weak smile. "I appreciate you taking the time to run around and collect what I requested, Colonel."

Setting the bag of items down on the ground next to the mat Edward was stretched over, Roy eased himself onto his knees next to Hohenheim and asked, "How is he doing?"

Hohenheim shrugged his shoulders. "About as good as he was before you left. Hasn't moved around much and has mostly been sleeping. The infection spread to every inch of his body. It's going to take a lot of time and effort on his part to bounce back."

"I see," Roy muttered as he glanced down at Edward, seeing that the young boy was taking shallow, quickened breaths and was covered by a fine layer of sweat.

"I never got to thank you," Hohenheim began. "For bringing him home."

When Roy looked up, he saw that Hohenheim wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was looking at the blonde woman leaning against the doorway, her arms folded over her chest.

Pride scoffed and looked away. "I only did it because the Colonel probably would have had an aneurism if I hadn't."

"Still," Hohenheim contended with her, "The fact remains that you brought my son home. And for that I am eternally grateful."

"Try not to get too comfortable with the idea."

"Alright," Hohenheim agreed as he reached up and pushed his glasses up with his fist, rubbing his eye. "I'll keep that in mind." When she huffed, Hohenheim turned his focus to Roy. "Will you be willing to take the night watch? Even I have hit my limit."

"Of course," Roy replied as he sat back and tried to make himself more comfortable.

Looking back over his shoulder, Hohenheim said, "You are welcome to stay as well."

She tensed, her eyes still glued to the floor. Then, after a few moments of dedicated thought, she eased her way into the room and slid down the wall, seating herself on the floor at the opposite end of the room.

Seemingly appreciating her response, Hohenheim slowly got to his feet and stretched his arms above his head. "I'm going to head off to bed for a while. Give me about three hours of sleep and I'll be right as rain."

As he lowered his arms, Roy shrugged his shoulders. "You're welcome to sleep longer if need be. I'll be fine."

"Let's play it by ear," Hohenheim replied. "If I'm not mistaken, you had a fairly restless night yourself, Colonel."

Realizing what Hohenheim was insinuating, Roy nodded in reply. "We'll play it by ear then. Have a good night's rest."

"Will do," he replied cheerfully as he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned, heading toward the door. After throwing one last glance toward Pride, he stepped around the corner and vanished.

Leaning back against the wall, Roy folded his arms and glanced at Pride, who had chosen at that moment to look away. She refused to speak at all about what that small outburst was about, and he doubted that she was willing to open up about it now.

Turning his focus to Edward, he settled himself and got comfortable, knowing that the next few hours would be spent watching not one person, but two.

* * *

The last thing Roy clearly remembered was mentally noting that Pride had fallen asleep, her arms crossed and head bowed, tucked into that same corner of the room. After that, however, he vaguely remembered his eyelids growing heavier and heavier as sleep began to overtake him…

With a loud gasp, Roy's eyes flew open. He had fallen asleep.

Almost immediately he honed in on Pride leaning over Edward, one hand hovering over his head. In a fit of sleep-induced panic, he snapped, "Hey," causing her to flinch. When she turned toward him, he growled, "What do you think you're doing?"

With a mild scoff, she turned back toward the boy and gingerly picked up the damp cloth on his head. "While you were busy sleeping the boy's fever spiked and he had grown restless. I was simply going to remove the cloth and replace it with one that's freshly soaked."

Casting her a wary glance, he retorted, "I highly doubt that. What were you really doing?"

She raised a brow at his accusation but said nothing, instead opting to unfold one of the hand towels next to Edward. As he hurriedly got to his feet and began to make his way over to her, she dipped her fingers into the bucket of water next to her and, seemingly deciding that it was cool enough, dropped the cloth into it and began to soak it. Just as she began to pull it out, he collapsed beside her and grabbed her wrist, just as he began to dip his fingers into the bucket. The moment his fingers grazed the surface of the water, feeling that it was indeed cool enough, she yanked her wrist out of his grip and grumbled, "Did you honestly think I'd be stupid enough to use lukewarm water?"

As he began to open his mouth to reply, she cut him off and added, "It was the Lieutenant's idea. She doesn't want him to go too long without properly changing it."

When he heard her mention his Lieutenant, he drew back slightly.

"Before you bemoan the fact that you haven't spoken to her for a few days, I'm going to preface by saying that no, you cannot speak to her."

Roy scoffed and looked away, turning his focus back to Edward, who seemed to have quieted some.

The two of them sat in awkward silence, watching the young boy for what felt seemed like hours before Pride finally broke it.

"I don't understand," she muttered.

"Understand what," Roy grumbled back.

"I don't understand why," Pride replied, red eyes sweeping over the sleeping child before returning to Roy. "Why do you care so much for him? What value does his life have that another doesn't?"

Roy opened his mouth to reply and then abruptly shut it, wondering if he had actually heard her. When she made no move to correct herself or add anything, he muttered, "You want to understand why?"

"Yes," she snapped irritably. "Why do you invest such time and resources into that boy when your energy could be more effective elsewhere?"

Taken aback by the brashness of her questions, Roy was strangely not upset. Instead, he was intrigued by this line of questioning. Looking her in the eye, he replied, "If you have to ask those questions, then it is because you do not understand the value a human life has."

"That's because all lives hold the same value," she replied matter-of-factly. "Each life is tied to one soul, one lifetime. When that lifetime is finished, the soul will transcend the boundary of this world and the Gate and will vanish forever.

"Every single life will end in this manner. So what difference does it make that one will end?"

Surprised and slightly put off by her comment, Roy replied, "You honestly think that I'd abandon this boy's life? Just because of his current condition?" When she made no move to respond, he shook his head slowly and said, "I suppose it's because you hold no value in a human life.

"After all, you took my precious Lieutenant's body without hesitation, using it for your own personal gain."

She sat back on her heels and shot him a bothered look. "Like I said before, my presence within her body is a blessing. Had I not been hurt so severely before, I would have most likely killed her. At least now her body will live on."

"And whose fault is it, though," Roy challenged the Homunculus. "We have no way of knowing whether or not you would have killed her before. All we know is that your arrogance got you into that situation."

Pride scoffed and turned away, focusing on the golden-haired boy once more. "You're getting off topic," she growled.

Deciding to leave prying about the Lieutenant for later, Roy too turned his attention to Edward.

"So tell me, why this boy? What makes 'the hero of the people' so unique that you'd be so determined to keep him alive."

"Precisely that," Roy replied.

"Precisely what," she muttered.

"The fact that he's the hero of the people," Roy explained. "You see, Edward is like a beacon of hope for all of those that feel they have been wronged, whether by the military or by alchemy or what say you."

"So you exploit his doer of good image in order to make you and your military look better," she replied as she looked back at him.

Looking up at her, he saw the belief in her eyes. Shaking off the feelings of anger that began to bubble inside of him, he silently vowed to try a different approach. "You missed the point entirely," he observed as she raised her brows. "Yes, his presence might cushion people's harsh views of the military, and perhaps him being my subordinate puts me in a better light. But what you didn't seem to understand just what it means for him to be that beacon."

She shot him a curious look, her expression silently telling him to continue. "While he can be a pain at times, Edward always has the best interests of those around him at heart. He fights for what he believes in and will stop at nothing once he sets his mind to something." Gesturing to the nothing in particular, he continued, "The entire town of Liore got back up on their feet shortly after their revolution because he inspired them to." Feeling a faint smile play on his lips, he explained, "I guess you could say that his energy is infectious. I know I've been inspired by him a number of times.

"… And the Lieutenant as well."

Her eyes wandered back over to him and she raised her brows. "The woman," she muttered, "What value does she hold to you? After all, she is subordinate to you. You could easily replace her with another soldier. So why don't you do so?"

Roy slowly shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. A human's life isn't for throwing away. Instead, it's to be treasured and held in the highest regard. Just because the Lieutenant isn't here right now doesn't mean that I stop caring. I never did."

Her eyes searched his expression, darting back and forth as she tried to read him, tried to understand.

"Every human being has one life to live. After that, there will be nothing else. We struggle to capture and hold onto precious moments with the ones we care about, because once they're gone that's it." Gesturing toward her, he added, "You contain hundreds of souls, each of them with a history and stolen futures. And once they run out you too will cease to exist. Everything that was you, and them, will disappear."

Looking down at Edward, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that every single life holds value, and it should not be taken for granted. The Lieutenant and I, and Edward and I, have many special moments together, and from those memories stems the reason I care about them…"

He paused and waited, expecting her to question his commitment to them yet again. Instead, he was met by silence. When he looked up at her, she saw brown eyes looking back. His heart immediately jumped into his throat.

"Sir," Riza murmured as her eyes wandered from his down to his throat… and to the yellowed bruises that were still wrapped around it, "I'm sorry…"

He opened his mouth to speak, but he did not immediately produce any noise. Swallowing the thickness in his throat, he placed a hand on the floor and leaned forward. When he felt his voice catch, he uttered, "Lieutenant… There isn't anything to be sorry about."

"No," she replied, "There is." Casting her gaze to the floor, she murmured, "I let my guard down, sir. I was too confident. And because of that I allowed this to happen." Moving her hand down to methodically run her hand over her arm, she continued, "What happened to Alphonse and that young girl May, and you… It was because of my arrogance."

"Riza," he began again as he reached toward her to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Seeing his hand, she instinctively reached up to grope her own neck as she eased back from him.

He drew his hand back and clenched it into a fist as memories of the measures he took to prevent Pride from harming Alphonse flooded his mind. And then… He remembered her expression, how utterly devastated and terrified she looked after seeing him in that state. His own hands had done that…

When she shifted his head snapped up… only to find red eyes watching him back. "Sorry. That's all I'm giving you," Pride muttered as she rose to her feet.

Seeing that the Homunculus had taken over yet again, Roy muttered, "Where are you going?"

"Like I told you yesterday," she muttered as she stopped in the doorway, "I still have a duty to protect the tunnels."

Feeling a jab of bitterness in the pit of his gut, he mumbled, "You could have at least let me say 'goodbye.'"

She glanced back at him over her shoulder and caught his eyes. After maintaining their contact for a few moments, she said, "She knows," before turning away and disappearing around the corner.

He considered running after her and catching up with her so that he could say what he had wanted to to her face. It wasn't just the fact that he did not get to say 'goodbye.' It was so much more than that…

Hearing the ruffling of sheets, Roy looked down to see Edward shift uncomfortably on the mat he was resting on, kicking the covers back slightly as he muttered incoherently under his breath.

Grabbing a dry rag that was folded next to the ice bucket, Roy dunked it in and quickly rung it out. Removing the one on the young boy's head that had already warmed, he folded the new one and put it in his place.

After a few beats Edward grew silent again, lulling himself back into a fever-induced slumber. When Roy had determined that he was comfortable for the time being, he willed himself to look toward the door yet again, silently damning himself not for failing to say 'goodbye,' but for not saying how sorry he was.

* * *

She didn't think she could have gotten out of there fast enough. The longer Pride endured the Colonel's talks of individuality and genuine care for his subordinates, the more she wanted to loathe him… The exchange between the Colonel and Lieutenant seemed to have riled the souls within her Philosopher's Stone, their cries and moans so much louder than before.

As she stepped into the clearing that housed the entrance to the tunnels, she clutched the front of her shirt and growled. The damn Lieutenant's emotions were taking their toll. Pride should have never given into her demands, should have never given her that moment with the Colonel. Because right now the Lieutenant's overwhelming guilt was spilling over into Pride, causing a moment of weakness. It was bewildering, confusing, overrunning any other thing she felt at that moment—

"Hey."

Jerking her head up and around, shadows ready, Pride saw a familiar face step out of the darkness. Letting her guard down just slightly, she narrowed her eyes and said, "Envy, I told Father I had things under control here."

The other Homunculus shrugged its shoulders and smirked. "I don't doubt that. After all, you were always one for taking control."

"Then why are you here," she demanded.

"Simple," Envy replied as its smirk widened, "To make you pay for your treachery."

"What are you—" Suddenly an overwhelming pain erupted in her shoulder. Twisting around, she watched as a lion-like creature dug its teeth deeper and deeper into her flesh. A shadow shot up defensively and plunged itself into the toothed demon, eliciting a muffled yelp from it as it let go. But just before she was able to counterattack, the world began to spin.

Turning her gaze toward Envy, she attempted to take a step forward, only to have her knees buckle beneath her. Collapsing to the ground, she tried to recall her shadows to fight off the traitorous Homunculus to find that they too were affected, writhing and bursting into sparks of alchemical energy as they dissipated and vanished.

Fully recumbent now, she tried address Envy but found that she could not muster the words. Pride could only watch as it crouched down in front of her with its stupid shit-eating grin and grab a fistful of her hair so that it could see her face better. It began to speak to her, but by the time it was halfway done with its sentence, her consciousness escaped her.

* * *

With a loud gasp, Pride's eyes flew open, her world still plunged in complete darkness. When she tried to raise a hand to her throbbing head, she realized that she was unable to, her arms and legs strapped down to a table. Jerking against them, she tried to find some source of light, something to use to conjure her shadows.

"It's futile to struggle. Your shadows have no effect in complete darkness."

Immediately recognizing the voice, she murmured, "Father…?" Hearing something move behind her, she craned her head back to peer into the darkness.

"Hello, my child. I know we just spoke, but it still seems as though it has been ages."

"What… What's going on," she asked as she heard him wander over to her side.

"I sent Envy to retrieve you upon realizing my mistake," he began.

"Mistake…?"

"Indeed," he continued. "After Greed defaulted for a second time, I began to fear your wellbeing. And with that stunt you performed yesterday, I have concluded that harboring another dominant soul is too corruptive and too much of a liability."

"Stunt," she quietly asked. "I don't… I don't understand."

"I think you do," he replied indifferently. "After all, it is very uncharacteristic for Pride the Arrogant to think itself better than the one that created it.

"Your retrieval of the eldest Elric brother without express permission confirmed to me that you allowed the woman's soul to corrupt you and alter your sense of judgment."

"I saved his life," she contested. "Without my intervention your sacrifice would have died."

"True," Father agreed as he shifted, "But your rescue of the boy before consulting me has proved to me that you have grown too independent." Placing a hand on her forehead, he continued, "It was wrong of me to assume that the Lieutenant's soul would be beneficial to you.

"Her body is still of use to us, but her soul must be integrated into your Stone if you are to continue your existence. So for now," he muttered as red sparks began to dance in front of her eyes, "I will draw you back into myself and you will be reborn."

Realizing what was about to happen, a fit of panic rose within Pride. Not just induced by the Lieutenant or the souls within the Stone… But within herself as well. The thought of being torn away and this existence ending suddenly terrified her. Acting on the Lieutenant's instincts and her own, she desperately tried to jerk away from his grip. But deep down she knew that without her shadows, she was completely, utterly useless.

The red sparks intensified and a beat later Pride felt her essence loosen and get torn away, plunging her consciousness, her existence, into darkness.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Whew! Longer chapter this time. I hope it all makes sense. If anything is confusing or if anyone seems OOC, please let me know._

 _Thank you for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews. I apologize for it taking longer than before, but I hope I made up for it with the longer chapter…_


	11. Pride

**A/N:** _I was on an airplane today and managed to churn this out o-o. I expect my next update for either FaS or Ignite to be within the next few days. I figured I'd just publish this one as my last publication of the year. Also, don't worry in regards to this chapter... I kind of know what I'm doing. Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows~!_

* * *

" _ **We've done it, Mr. Hohenheim."**_

" _He would be proud."_

"We saved her soul...-"

" _But at what_ _ **cost**_ _?"_

" _Humanity is subjective."_

" _ **This isn't what he planned."**_

" _ **There was no other choice."**_

" _We've done our best, Van Hohenheim…"_

" _We… tried our best…"_

* * *

Van Hohenheim catapulted upward with a start, slapping his palm to his drenched forehead as the souls within him stirred and seethed. "What's going on," he croaked as they began to argue amongst themselves. He pursed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sort through the myriad of souls as they all began to speak at once.

" _My dear Xavier…"_

" _ **Sacrificed."**_

" _Nathaniel was barely grown. A young man of only nineteen years…"_

 _"Why has this happened?"_

"Please," he asked again as his head began to throb, "Tell me what you know. I'm listening."

The souls suddenly quieted as they turned their energy toward him, thousands upon thousands of voices stopping all at once. It was then that he realized he needed no explanation; that the feeling of explicit emptiness he felt within him was itself an answer.

Without another word he threw the covers off of himself and flung his bedroom door open, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack beside it as he thundered out of the room. By the time he had thrown it over his shoulders and slipped his arms through, he was already in front of the room where Edward was recovering. It took every ounce of Hohenheim's will to not slam his fist against the door in his fit of panic, using only the knowledge that his gravely injured boy was just beyond that door… hopefully along with two others…

He tapped his fist gently against the door and paused before slowly opening the door and ghosting into the room. After a quick scan of the room, his deepest fear was confirmed: it wasn't there.

"Are you alright?"

Jerking his head up, he focused on Colonel Mustang, who was kneeling beside Edward.

Trying to keep himself as composed as he could, Van Hohenheim slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and asked, "Do you happen to know where it went?"

"Pride," the Colonel asked as he studied Hohenheim's face. When he nodded in response, Colonel Mustang admitted, "She went to survey the tunnels that run beneath the city."

"How long ago," he asked, his question more of a demand than he had meant it to sound.

"About two hours ago," the Colonel said as his glare became critical. "Why?"

Taking a step back and toward the door, Hohenheim attempted to diffuse the Colonel's rising suspicion by saying, "There's nothing to worry about, Colonel—"

"Dad?"

Jumping slightly, Hohenheim looked over his shoulder to find his armored son standing in the doorway along with Winry and May. No doubt seeing his father's attempt at keeping his surprise in check, Alphonse squeaked, "Is everything okay? You slammed the door and ran through the hallway so quickly that we thought something happened."

Pulling his hands out of his pockets and raising them shoulder level in a calming manner, Hohenheim forced a light smile and began to say, "Everything's fine, Alphonse. There's no need to panic—"

"Are you sure?"

Turning back to the Colonel, he saw that the man had gotten to his feet and was now eyeing him with alarm. Likely seeing the pallor of his face, the Colonel's eyes widened. "Did something happen?"

Realizing that he was unable to maintain a certain level of ignorance, he sighed and slowly pushed his hands into his pockets, angling his body so that he was able to address his younger son and Colonel Mustang. "Now," he slowly began, "I have no concrete knowledge of any foul play, but I suspect that something may have happened to our friend—"

"What," Colonel Mustang snapped as he took a few steps away from Edward and toward him. "How would you know this?"

Trying to keep his voice level for the sake of the worried Colonel, Hohenheim replied, "I cannot explain at this moment. Instead, I need to confirm my suspicions."

"In that case," the Colonel replied hastily as he breezed over to the coat rack in the corner of the room and grabbed his jacket, "I'm coming with you."

"I understand," Hohenheim responded as he turned to address his younger son. "Alphonse, I would like you and the girls to remain here with Edward. I suspect that we will not be gone too long." When he heard the Colonel stop behind him, he made a move to step around his son when Alphonse stepped in front of him.

"I'd like to go with you," the suit of armor said as his soul-fire eyes met Hohenheim's.

"We don't have time to argue, son," Hohenheim warned.

"We don't," Alphonse agreed, "So let's just agree to disagree this one time. I need to go, Dad. Please…"

He held his son's glowing eyes for a few moments, but silently reminded himself of his own words. Finally, he relented and sighed. "Alright. But only if you are able to keep up. We will likely be moving quickly."

"Okay," his son replied affirmatively as he stepped out of Hohenheim's way.

After casting one last glance over his shoulder to signal his readiness to the Colonel, he stepped past his son and the two young girls and began to head toward the door, hanging on to that last shred of hope that Pride was still wandering the tunnels beneath Liore.

* * *

It seemed like they were both frozen there for an eternity, though Riza was certain that it had only been mere seconds since the incident had occurred. The faint light emulating from the red alchemic sparks that danced on her body and his had cast enough of a glow for her to see that he was watching her. His golden eyes were locked on hers, slightly widened and sprinkled with shock. Then, after breaking their silent exchange, he slowly lowered his eyes down to the dark shadow protruding from his chest before looking back at her.

His apparent shock quickly turned to anger as he ignored the wound that had been inflicted upon him, reaching toward her in an attempt to complete whatever reaction he had started.

Feeling panic begin to flood her, Riza instinctively rolled away, finding that the restraints that had been holding her body down before had been severed. Without anything to support her, she twisted off of the table and hit the floor with a loud crack. A burst of stars erupted in her vision, disorienting her as she staggered to her feet and away from the table. Just as she was about to regain her footing, however, the ground beneath her feet began to split and crack as more red sparks of energy surged through it.

Riza dove away from the fissure and slammed against a pillar as it shot up from the ground. Pushing off of it, she faltered away and fell against a wall. As she frantically groped for something to grab onto in the darkness, she stumbled into a pocket in the wall, realizing that it was deeper than her immediate perception of it. A hallway.

Without a moment's hesitation, she slapped her hand against the wall to steady herself and rushed into the darkness. The ground beneath her shifted again and she stumbled. Riza managed to catch herself on her hands and knees and propelled herself upward again as another bout of alchemic energy tore through the ground.

At that rate she would be running blindly until she either escaped or was caught by the one Pride had called 'Father.' But Riza had no other choice. She had to continue running. Because at that moment she had control… And Pride was gone. And if she was recaptured by him, she had no idea what would happen.

The ground began to tremble again. Preparing herself for the inevitable burst of alchemic energy, Riza reached out to brace herself against the wall once more… Only for her hand to find the rung of a ladder.

Riza reached forward and found the ladder with her other hand and began to frantically scale it, refusing to look back down as the ground began to crack and splinter. After climbing a few more rungs, she reached out and slapped her hand against a steel covering. Knowing that just beyond that cover was freedom, Riza desperately slammed her shoulder into it and pushed against it until it budged.

Pushing the cover out of her way, she clambered out of the hole and found herself in the middle of a deserted street. Not wanting to dwell near her egress for longer than necessary, Riza thrust the cover back over the hole and began to race through the area, trying to locate street signs or familiar landmarks in an otherwise unfamiliar part of Central.

She didn't have to go too far before she found herself in a familiar area, however. After turning down an alleyway and emerging on the street it connected to, Riza at last recognized something. According to the street's road sign, she had just emerged on Dowley Street, just six blocks from her apartment building. She slowed her pace to a light canter and eased her way into the crowd that was milling about on the sidewalk.

Almost instantly after she joined them, she could feel eyes on her. Hugging her arms tighter to herself, she cautiously allowed her eyes to wander up to every individual that had turned their attention toward her. Very few of them held her stare, most of them opting to look away, only to glance at her from the corner of their eyes. Others seemed to turn to their companions and mutter something. And still some chose to hold their unwavering glares, eyes reflecting unnecessary disdain. She stole a glance down at herself, seeing that her clothing was riddled with a plethora of dirt spots and tears. It was no wonder they were scrutinizing her…

After enduring their countless stares and gawks, Riza finally made it back to her apartment building and quickly slipped inside, reminding herself that she'd have to stop by her elderly neighbor's in order to retrieve her spare key.

Just as she was about to turn the corner and ascend the final staircase that led to her floor, Riza heard two people standing in the hallway, speaking in hushed tones. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her instincts telling her to advance slowly, if at all. A muted voice at the back of her mind urged her to fall back and escape. But when she recognized her neighbor's voice, she felt compelled to advance. Pausing at the top step, she pressed herself against the wall and strained to listen.

"I haven't seen Miss Hawkeye for a number of days. I assumed she was away on military business."

"You're absolutely positive, ma'am? You didn't hear her return tonight?"

"No," her neighbor replied concernedly. "I haven't heard any noise coming from her apartment at all."

Riza furrowed her brows and cautiously peeked around the corner, seeing her neighbor and a man in an Amestrian military uniform standing in the hall.

"I see," the officer muttered and frowned.

"Why are you looking for her? Has something happened?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, ma'am," he reassured her as he tipped his hat. "She just hasn't reported for a few days, so we figured we'd check her home before proceeding further. But should she return, do not approach her and instead call us."

"Well, alright," her neighbor replied uneasily. "I'll keep you informed if she returns home. Do you have a card with your contact information?"

Riza did not stick around to hear the rest of the conversation, slipping silently down the staircase and eventually out of her apartment building's front door.

They already had members of the military seeking her out. And judging by that officer's words, they were searching for someone they considered dangerous. But what the higher ups told them, she did not know.

All she knew was that both her home and Central Command were no longer safe for her to return to…

* * *

The moment they were out of sight of the small home Hohenheim had secured, Roy caught up to the running man and matched his pace, leaving Alphonse just outside of earshot behind them. As they burst through the brush that led into the forest, Roy glanced at his companion out of the corner of his eye and demanded, "What do you know, Hohenheim?"

"Nothing as of this moment," the man replied cryptically as he quickened his pace.

"Then what prompted you to wake up in the middle of the night to go and find it," Roy insisted.

Hohenheim shook his head defiantly. "I told you, Colonel. I cannot explain to you the circumstances of my knowledge until I have a better understanding of the situation itself."

"Then tell me this," Roy contested as he once again matched pace with the man. "What about my Lieutenant? Will she be okay?"

Hohenheim clenched his jaw and turned his attention toward the forest in front of them, spying the clearing that ultimately held one of the many entrances to the underground tunnels. When his response was not immediate, Roy hissed, "Well," just as they emerged from the brush and into the clear expanse.

Before Hohenheim could answer him, however, Alphonse stopped beside Roy and gasped, prompting him to follow his line of sight down and to a man sprawled out on the ground before them.

"Sir," Hohenheim called as he knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, slowly turning him onto his back, "Are you alright?"

Roy stared down at the unknown man, immediately noticing the copious amount of blood that stained his face around his mouth and the collar of his shirt. But just before he was about to get down to assist Hohenheim, Alphonse exclaimed, "That's one of Kimblee's men."

"What," Roy gasped as he jerked his head around and toward Alphonse.

His soul-fire eyes still locked on the unknown man, Alphonse nodded and added, "I saw him before in Baschool."

"Take it easy now…"

Turning his attention back to Hohenheim and Kimblee's adjunct, Roy watched as the latter slowly sat up and pressed a hand against his forehead, letting out a low moan as he rubbed his head.

"Is that true," Roy growled as he stopped in front of the man and stared down at him. "Are you one of Kimblee's men?"

The man groaned again and looked up at the Colonel, blinking a few times before lethargically nodding.

"What are you doing here," he demanded next.

The man opened his mouth and then promptly shut it before swallowing another groan of pain.

Something in the back of Roy's mind urged him to continue questioning the man. His appearance was too unusual, too convenient. And at this point, there was no sign of his Lieutenant.

"Well."

"Colonel Mustang," Hohenheim chided as he got to his feet, "Let's give the man a few moments to recover—"

"If this man has pertinent information regarding my Lieutenant, then I need to know now," Roy shot back. "And besides, you were desperate for information yourself just a few minutes ago." Gesturing toward the man, he added, "We have our answer right here. The sooner we get those answers, the sooner we can find Pride and my Lieutenant—"

"Pride?"

Roy turned his focus to the man as he readjusted himself, drawing his knees into his chest as he pressed his hand against his forehead once more.

"Yes," Roy quickly answered. "Have you seen her? A woman in her late twenties with blonde hair and—"

"Yeah," the man answered carefully as he looked up at the Colonel. "I've seen her. The voices… They hold me to apprehend her."

"Voices," Hohenheim inquired as he knelt down beside the man again. "What were these voices saying."

The man buried his face into his hands and growled, "Everything! They… They were telling me things, making me do them against my own will. Made me follow that spiky-haired little runt. It was the only way to quiet them; following it around and listening to it."

"'Spiky-haired,'" Alphonse echoed. "Did its name happen to be Envy?"

The man's head shot up and he glanced at Alphonse. "Yes," he answered, "That's what it was."

"And you're saying these voices made you follow it around," Hohenheim investigated.

The man huffed agitatedly and snarled, "Yes. After it attacked us up in the North, it took the three of us to Central… And that's when the voices began. They put something in Darius and me… Something that forced those voices into our heads."

"Wait. Take a step back," Hohenheim instructed. "You said there were three of you at one point, but when you mentioned obtaining the voices you only addressed yourself and this 'Darius' character."

"The third," the man muttered. "The third was…" He trailed off, losing himself in his thoughts as he tried to recollect who this third person was. After tapping his fist against his head a few times, he mumbled, "A short young man. Gold hair, gold eyes…"

"That sounds like my brother," Alphonse squeaked. "His name's Edward Elric."

The man furrowed his brows and huffed again as he stared past the three of them and into the darkness, his eyes flitting about as he tried to remember if that was the name he had forgotten. He repeated Edward's name again, and suddenly his eyes widened. "Edward Elric… That's it." Looking back at Alphonse, he nodded his head and said, "That was him.

"He escaped and we were sent to retrieve him. But then she – Pride - took him. That's when Envy demanded we follow it to find Pride. Said something about her betraying us."

"So what happened," Roy demanded. "Why did it assume she betrayed you?"

"I don't know," the man said as he shook his head. "All I know was that we were supposed to take her back to Central with us, willing or not."

"And was she willing to?"

The man pursed his lips together and frowned, and then slowly shook his head. "No, she wasn't.

"The voices and Envy… They told me… Told me to inoculate them."

"Inoculate," Hohenheim uttered as his face paled.

"Yeah," the man panted. "When I attacked her… The voices vanished and I suddenly regained control…"

"Dad," Alphonse gasped as he turned toward his father. "That would be like—"

"Alphonse," Hohenheim cut him off pointedly. "Now is not the time—"

"No," Roy interjected heatedly, "I think it _is_ the time." Training his focus on Hohenheim, he narrowed his eyes and rumbled, "I demand you tell me everything you've been holding back until this point. No more lies or avoiding the subject."

Hohenheim's lips pursed together, and Roy began to prepare himself to challenge him again. However, he held back when the older man sighed defeatedly and looked sorrowfully at him over the rims of his spectacles. "I'll explain it to you as quickly as I can, Colonel, but I want you to wait until I finish before you address me again…"

* * *

With her own home and Central Command off the table, Riza had few places to go. Fewer than she had initially thought, she realized as she slowly wandered through the darkness, because if there was one soldier questioning her whereabouts, there were bound to be more. Until this point she had been lucky, though. The streets in this part of the city were relatively deserted, with only the occasional car or pedestrian passing her by.

She was close to Gracia Hughes's home and considered it for a moment, though she quickly dismissed the thought, fearing that her current predicament would put both Elicia and Gracia in unnecessary danger. Instead, she decided, she would remain close and continue to monitor her situation…

"Freeze!"

Riza froze and slowly turned toward the voice and immediately raised her hands, feeling her heart sink as she did so. Never had she thought she would be on the other side of an Amestrian military officer's weapon… and yet there she was.

"On your knees, Lieutenant Hawkeye," the uniformed officer barked as he took a step toward her, his gun raised and pointed toward her.

Riza slowly lowered herself down to her knees, her hands still raised. "I have no weapons, Officer," she replied calmly. "And I—" Hearing a muted whisper, she jerked her head around and tried to locate the its source, only to discover that the two of them appeared to be alone.

"Hey," the officer snapped, prompting her to look in his direction again, "Keep your attention focused on me, Lieutenant."

"I'm sorry," she apologized slowly, "I won't make any sudden movements again."

The man kept his guard up and did not say another word, slowly easing his way toward her, never allowing his sights to waver from her. After edging into the light of the street lamp that hung above her, Riza could see that he was a young officer, no older than twenty-three. So perhaps his lack of experience was what was causing his hands to begin to shake.

In an attempt to ease him, she quietly offered, "Would you like me to put my hands behind my back now?"

His eyes grew wide, as if surprised by her cooperativeness. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something detrimental in regards to her character, he raised his gun again and snapped, "Do it. Move slowly."

She nodded earnestly and gradually lowered her hands, making sure to keep them within sight for as long as she could. But just as she was about to move them behind her back, she heard the whispers again.

" _He has a gun."_

" _Dangerous..."_

She tried to ignore them, instead deciding to focus on maintaining the fluidity of her own movements as she clasped her hands behind her back. But just as she was about to address him again, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Allowing her eyes to slowly wander over to it, she found herself horrified to discover a dark shadow slithering across the ground and toward the soldier. When it reached his leg and began to wind around his boot, she gasped, "Watch ou—"

Her cry was drowned out by the young soldier's screams as a flurry of shadows descended upon him, tearing and slashing and ripping him apart.

* * *

"So what you're telling me," Roy seethed, clenching his fists at his side, "Is that you intentionally put my Lieutenant in danger in order to test a _theory_?!"

"Please, Colonel," Hohenheim tried to appeal to him, "You have to understand the reasoning behind my decision."

"I understand your reasoning _perfectly_ ," Roy hissed as his hands began to tremble, "But what I don't understand is why you decided to act without the Lieutenant's express permission, or by at least consulting me in her stead."

"I know, Colonel," Hohenheim replied solemnly, "It was a lapse in judgment. I believed it to be the best option at that time. It was acting erratically. My goal was to pacify it."

"In the process jeopardizing my Lieutenant's well-being," Roy hissed. "And may have very well destroyed her."

"Now, Colonel," Hohenheim appealed to him as he raised his hands, "We do not know that. Until we can find her, we don't know what state she or the Homunculus will be in."

"And you think that's a good reason to remain calm," Roy yelled as what little composure he still had began to slip away. Taking an aggressive step toward Hohenheim, he snarled, "You infused souls from your Philosopher's Stone into Pride's, an action even you said would cause it to become unstable." Pointing toward Kimblee's subordinate, Roy added, "I theorize that adding more souls would cause it to become even more unstable."

"Colonel Mustang, please," Alphonse squeaked as he tried to diffuse Roy's anger, "We really can't know until we find the Lieutenant—"

"And you," Roy growled as he redirected his anger toward Alphonse, "You knew about your father's actions and yet you said nothing."

Taken aback by Roy's rage, Alphonse timidly stepped away from him, his armor quivering.

"Colonel Mustang," Hohenheim began as he put a hand on Roy's shoulder.

"Don't," Roy snapped, slapping the man's hand away as he began to storm back toward the house.

"Colonel," Alphonse called fearfully, "Please, where are you going?!"

Roy did not answer, having already made it out of the clearing and into the forest's brush, far too infuriated to even acknowledge the child's desperate plea. They would learn soon enough…

* * *

Riza was sprinting now, banking around the corners of the buildings lining the deserted streets of Central as she attempted to find an area shrouded in complete darkness. She hadn't bothered going back, there was no need. There was practically nothing left of the young soldier's husk when she had sprinted around it in her fit of panic.

She should have known as much. The reaction the being called Father had left her feeling tense. Not quite like she had felt before Pride took hold of her body, but not too unlike how she was when Pride had been dwelling within her.

She had temporarily dismissed it as an effect of the Homunculus's possession, because who wouldn't feel different after regaining control of their body once more?

But now that left her with the realization that, because she was now separated from Pride, it would have likely been let loose after Father resorbed it. And with its murderous display just then, she suspected that it was seeking her out for some misconstrued notion of revenge.

Pride was out there and still very much alive…

When she dove around another corner, Riza found that it was a dead end. And when she turned around to backtrack out of the alleyway, she found that she was cornered as Pride's shadows, standing idly as they slithered down the sides of the buildings and quietly crept toward her.

Swallowing back her fear, she uttered, "Why have you chased me all this way, Pride?"

The eyes widened, watching her intently as they slowly crept around her, all the while maintaining a reasonable distance from her. Its mouths were pursed together; the creature all together silent.

"You were removed by Father, so why are you pursuing me? I'm insignificant in your eyes." The eyes narrowed as she shadows continued to sweep along the ground around her. She studied them for a few moments, trying to understand Pride's uncharacteristic silence. "Or are you doing it because I'm a loose end," she asked slowly. "And you need to eliminate me because of that."

"… _Hardly,"_ a disembodied voice at last muttered into her ear, giving her an odd sense of relief.

"Then why are you attacking me," she demanded.

" _I'm… not,"_ Pride whispered weakly in reply. _"You are… doing this to yourself."_

Riza frowned. "What do you mean?"

" _I no longer have control… of my own shadows,"_ it hissed bitterly.

Riza's stomach somersaulted with unease upon hearing its ominous tone. "You no longer have control? What do you mean by that-?"

" _LOOK,"_ it screeched in her other ear, which incited her to turn toward the disembodied voice, and instantly drew her eyes to a broken mirror that was leaned up against the side of the building. This action consequently caused her stomach to plummet in her abdomen.

Inching toward it, she ghosted her fingers over her reflection; namely, over her eyes. Because while her irises should have returned to their normal brown-color, they instead retained the same radiant red as Pride's eyes.

" _Do you understand now,"_ Pride hissed in her ear.

"No, I don't," she admitted warily as she pulled her hand away from the broken glass, keeping her glare fixated on the eyes that peered back.

" _These shadows are no longer mine… You have… taken them…"_

"Taken…?"

The Homunculus growled irritably. _"Your soul is now bound… to the Stone_. _I am no longer the dominant essence…"_

"You're dodging my questions," she replied, clumsily stumbling over her words as the gravity of its words began to sink in.

" _I think you already know,"_ it muttered as she focused her attention on her reflection once more. _"_ _ **You**_ _are now the one marked by the_ _Ouroboros_ _. It is_ _ **you**_ _the shadows are now responding to."_

Reaching forward, she swept the shadows away and numbly picked up one of the pieces of shattered glass that had fallen from the mirror. As she slowly held it up, her hand trembling, the voice whispered, _"I no longer bear the name Pride. Instead, now it is **you**."_


	12. Disappear

"How can this be? He… He was going to remove you…"

" _And he nearly did_ ," Pride quietly hissed. " _Father had begun to… bond your soul to the stone so it may become part of it. But then_...," it continued, " _That_ _ **cheat**_ _, Van Hohenheim… He planted souls from his Stone… Within me._

" _They fought back and made themselves known… When Father was nearly complete…"_

"Van Hohenheim," Riza uttered, "He did this…?"

" _Yes_ ," Pride confirmed, " _In order to… save your soul. But in turn… In turn it backfired. So to save you… they sealed me in my own Stone and gave you preeminence_."

"Then we need to get to Van Hohenheim," Riza contended as she dropped the shard of glass and tried to rise to her feet. "He must be able to undo this."

Pride scoffed as Riza's legs began to tremble, buckling beneath her. " _You say that like it's so simple_ …"

"I didn't say it would be simple," she countered as she tried to rise again. "I just said that he could have an answer."

" _Quarreling with me will do nothing_ ," it snapped as she stumbled again.

This time, however, one of the shadows caught her and tried to help her rise onto her feet. Riza swiftly batted it away, slicing her palm open on it in the process. As red alchemic sparks began to snap and pour from the wound and heal it, she slumped against one of the buildings and cradled it in her other hand and stared down at it, watching as strands of muscle fibers and bits of skin began to regenerate and close it.

She had witnessed it before through Pride's eyes but had never _felt_ it. Felt what it was like for her body to react and mount a response against the flaw. Felt the energy that surged and coursed through her veins in response, flooding the area with a pool of warmth.

As it reached the last steps of its healing, her hand began to tremble. She could feel _it_.

The raw energy of the Stone and the milling about of the thousands upon _thousands_ of souls within it.

The insurmountable power that warmed her blood as it coursed through her veins.

The last shred of her humanity dispersing and incinerating inside the Stone…

With her hand completely healed, she used to to grab a handful of her blouse, twisting it as her heart began to ache. The ache, however continued to grow and evolve from a dull ache to a deep burning; burning so intensely that she let loose a strangled gasp. Tugging at her shirt, she pulled it down enough to watch something bright red finish searing itself into her skin.

She screwed her eyes shut, knowing full well what it was before it even finished leaving its mark. After all, she had seen it below Lust's collar bone. On Envy's thigh. Greed's hand. Gluttony's tongue. The one defining feature that visually distinguished those that were human and those that claimed to be 'better.' Now situated just above her left breast and directly over her heart; the damned, winged serpent eating its tail.

The Ouroboros…

Releasing her shirt, her arm fell limply to her side; any ounce of the will she had completely gone. Everything Pride had said was confirmed by what she was witnessing and experiencing. From reflecting the Ouroboros to the Philosopher's Stone that she could feel surging within her.

As the realization began to sink in, she began to feel short of breath. Everything that Pride had said in the past poured back, replaying for her over and over so that they would etch themselves permanently in her mind.

Homunculi were ageless and near immortal creatures, transcending centuries with relative ease. Death was laughable to and incredibly difficult to inflict upon them; the only means she had seen being… She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she remembered the details of Lust's demise.

If Hohenheim was unable to help, would that be the means by which she would accept death? It seemed improbable, however, given the wielder of that incredible power. Especially since he had been unwilling to remove bits of the tattoo engraved on her back.

Or would it be? Would he ultimately subject her to it and claim mercy…?

As memories of that night began to integrate themselves into her train of thought, recollections of the smell of burning flesh and agonizing screams bombarding her senses as they did, any notion that kept her nausea at bay vanished as she keeled forward and gagged. When she tried to take a breath, tried to force back the sickness, she found that her lungs were severely below capacity. Gasping to try and refill her lungs she realized that, while she had been trying to process the sensation of the Philosopher's Stone, she had been breathing heavily, to the point where she had nearly begun to hyperventilate.

Clutching the part of her shirt that hung over the damned marking, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath and bring herself back down. She couldn't lose focus of the task at hand. Not now. Not when her life still hung in the balance, especially if she remained within the limits of Central. She needed to focus on the fact that she was still in control, that she still had two legs to carry her. She was capable of this, _damn it,_ and she would not lose to what fate had conceived for her.

She needed to keep moving forward…

" _Are you… done now…_ ," a voice whispered irritably in her ear.

After taking another shaking breath, Riza slowly exhaled and managed to mutter, "No. But I can try to contain myself, though I doubt I won't think about it again."

" _Fine_ ," it hissed, " _Because you need to leave_."

She furrowed her brows. "So now you're looking to help me? I thought you wanted Father to absorb my soul," Riza replied as she tried to gain her footing, keeping one hand pressed against the wall as she eased her way toward the alley's entrance.

Pride paused for a moment and then answered, " _There are two outcomes to this scenario… Either you get caught and are completely integrated into the Stone… Where your memories would be taken… And you would assume the name 'Pride.'_

 _"…Or you find Van Hohenheim… Where the chance is greater to… To have you separated from it…_ "

Riza closed her eyes momentarily and took a breath before opening them again and peering around the corner. "I choose the latter," she muttered as she confirmed that her surroundings were clear. "And in order to do so, I need a way to leave the city without being detected." Leaning against the wall, she added, "And my vehicle is likely impounded or surrounded by military police."

" _Well_ ," Pride offered slowly as Riza's eyes scanned over a car parked on the street, " _You could always_ take _one…_ "

* * *

"Colonel Mustang," Winry called the moment he walked barged through the door. "What's going on?"

"I'm heading back to Central," he replied hurriedly as he made his way toward the staircase. "Something has come up."

When he had one foot on the step, he heard her utter, "It's because of what has happened to Miss Riza, isn't it?"

Roy froze. As far as he had remembered, they hadn't given the girls an extensive rundown of what was going on. Hell, he didn't know what was going on at the time. Jerking his head around toward her, he saw Winry watching him, her expression reflecting the concern in her tone.

"What was that," he asked.

"I…" she began slowly, searching his face, as if hoping he would interrupt and tell her he knew. But when he hadn't, she deflated and said, "This," as she turned away from him and turned the volume up on the radio that was placed atop the table beside them.

As Roy moved closer, he began to make out what the announcer was saying through the military radio's interference.

"— _Suspect last seen on the corner of Henderson and Stanton—The suspect is considered armed and extremely dangerous…- Do not confront unless armed… -_

"— _Commanding officer…- Roy Mustang…- Not heard from since the eleventh of November...—In Liore…- Approximately three days ago…- Involvement unconfirmed…-_

" _Suspect: First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye…- One-hundred sixty-eight centimeters… - Blonde hair and brown eyes…- If any information…- is Report to headquarters…-"_

"You didn't hear the beginning," Winry said slowly after it cut out, "But they said that Miss Riza was the primary suspect in the disappearance of Selim Bradley.

"They said she had been there the night that Selim vanished and that she had been recently transferred to her position as the Fuhrer's aide. They… They think that...—"

"That she's probably involved with a resistance trying to gain political leverage, right," Roy said, finishing the thought for her.

Winry slowly nodded her head in confirmation.

Feeling his heart sink, Roy squeezed his eyes closed, hoping that when he opened them again he would be in bed or back in Central, with all of this having been a ridiculous, ongoing nightmare. But when he opened them again, he was met by the same distressed Winry as before, sitting beside his injured subordinate and a radio that basically told him his world had ended…

Feeling his mind begin to slip, he clung to the one notion that brought him back to the house: Retrieving his things and getting to Riza. It was the only option at that point. The _only_ way he would be able to get to her… even if it meant taking on the entire Amestrian army to find her.

He heard Winry say something as he whirled around and headed toward the staircase again, but he couldn't make out her words. Roy's mind began to reel as he ascended the stairs, trying to formulate a plan that would get him to Central the quickest way possible. By rail would be impossible, seeing that no trains ran that late in the evening. But if he were able to secure a car, he would be able to make it back within four hours. Three if he drove quickly.

When he made it to the top of the staircase, he heard a door slam. Turning around, he saw Hohenheim and Alphonse enter the house, the man they had found before cradled in Alphonse's arms.

Turning away from them, he breezed around the corner and headed toward the room he had left what few belongings he brought. As he started stuffing a bag, he heard Alphonse gasp from downstairs, likely having just heard the news from Winry. This only made him more things along faster, pushing objects into his bag without orienting them or making sure they fit correctly. All he needed was to get everything in and then he could go—

He froze when he heard footsteps ascend the staircase and turn to head down the hallway toward the room. And when they stopped just outside the door, he clenched his jaw, the raw anger he felt earlier slowly seeping its way back into his chest.

"Are you still planning on leaving," Van Hohenheim asked as he stepped into the room.

Without looking back at him, Roy resumed shoving his possessions into his bag. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I go to my Lieutenant's aide?"

"Because it may very well be a trap, Colonel," Hohenheim advised.

Roy scoffed. "I'm well aware of that fact. And if it is a trap, then I will be ready for it."

"Colonel," Hohenheim contended to him as he stepped further into the room, "I would advise that you don't go."

Roy stifled his bitter laugh, turning to look over his shoulder at the man and glare daggers at him. "You jeopardized the safety of my Lieutenant and you just expect me to sit back and wait until she's taken by then again?"

"No, Colonel," Hohenheim replied as he raised his hands defensively. "I just want you to recognize the bigger picture here."

"I have," Roy shot back as he clenched his fists in his lap. "And the only answer is going to find my Lieutenant. They've practically invited me in. Now could be the only chance I have to get in there and find her."

"Then that's all the more reason not to go," Hohenheim answered.

Roy jerked his head up and stared at the man as if he had gone mad. Shaking his head in disbelief, he said, "I can't _not_ go. My Lieutenant is in danger and I'll be damned if I don't find her—"

"Colonel," Hohenheim said as he tried to reason with him, "You need to look at the bigger picture. They have already stated Liore as your last location. The citizens here are likely to recognize you and confirm it with the military, especially if that means there is something in it for them. It's entirely possible that forces from Central are on their way to retrieve you.

"And once you're there, there is a possibility that they may use you to lure it back to them. Leaving it to find its way out is the best thing we can do for all involved—"

"Except for my Lieutenant," Roy seethed as he got to his feet, balling his fists at his sides. "Who you decided to toy with without complete knowledge of what your actions could have entailed."

Hohenheim's face fell and his shoulders sagged, and Roy knew once again that he had hit a nerve. "I know you must despise me for what I've done, but I want for you to realize that I meant no ill-will toward your Lieutenant." Placing a hand over his heart, he continued, "I believed that I made the right decision by infusing those souls into Pride's Stone."

"And why would you think that," Roy challenged. "Because you yourself said you didn't know what would happen."

"You're right," Hohenheim admitted as he lowered his hand. "I didn't know what would happen. However, I trust the souls that are within me to carry out what they have been tasked to do.

"Those souls have been tasked with the purpose of protecting the woman's soul. I have put my complete faith in them—"

"And yet you told me you woke up realizing that they had been burned up," Roy countered bitterly. "So now even you don't know what state Pride is in. You said so yourself that its Stone would already be unstable with the addition of those souls. If they were to be introduced and then taken away, what would happen then?" When Hohenheim did not answer, he scoffed. "So now you see my dilemma.

"Because if the same thing were to happen to Edward or Alphonse, you would likely drop everything to be at their side."

Hohenheim pursed his lips and mulled over Roy's words, much to Roy's utter shock. He believed a father to be one that would not hesitate to do anything for their children, especially when faced with a situation so dire. Instead, the 'father' that stood before him was tossing the notion around in his mind, as if the correct answer were difficult to discern.

At last he said, "I would do what would be best for my children, Colonel. But at this point we do not have time to argue hypothetical questions and theories."

"I agree," Roy concurred as he tried to step around Hohenheim. "So that's why I'm—" A firm grip on his shoulder stopped him from moving forward. Narrowing his eyes, Roy growled, "Let me pass."

"I can't allow that, Colonel," Hohenheim said as he tightened his grip on Roy's shoulder.

"Why are you impeding me," he hissed as he batted Hohenheim's hand away.

"Because I will go in your stead," the blond man retorted. When Roy shot him a confused glare, Hohenheim continued, "The military is seeking you out and if you set foot into Central, there is no telling what they will do. But they are not seeking me as far as we know, giving me a cover that you do not have.

"You must also keep the bigger picture in mind as I have said. They are seeking you, but they are also likely seeking Edward as well, and possibly Alphonse too. If you take them and go, then you can at least evade the military for a while longer."

"And why should I trust you," Roy replied crudely. "It's isn't like you haven't gone behind my back before."

The man breathed in and closed his eyes, pushing his glasses up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. After holding his breath a few moments, he let out a dejected sigh and pulled his hand away from his face, looking Roy in the eye. "I have nothing to offer you other than my word, Colonel, which I know has little meaning to you at this moment."

Roy let out a sharp breath but said nothing, waiting for Hohenheim to continue.

"But right now that is all this is riding on," he continued as he took a step forward and squared his shoulders. "Colonel Mustang, I need your full support if we want to succeed in both retrieving your Lieutenant and keeping my boys safe." Extending his hand toward him, he added, "You are the one that can assure that we can accomplish both."

Roy hesitated, eyeing the man critically as he mulled over his words. They seemed so sincere, so noble. But at the same time something in Roy's subconscious nagged him to evaluate every word he said. After all, his actions may have very well destabilized Pride and plunged it into a state of disarray. But at the same time, without going to Central there was no way of knowing the Homunculus's, or more importantly Riza's, status.

And with the military actively searching for her, and him it would seem, Hohenheim had virtually pushed Roy into a corner.

It seemed that the only option at that moment was to allow himself to be strung along by Hohenheim for a while longer; just until he knew Riza's status. After that the game may very well change…

But for now he would have to trust him and put faith in Hohenheim.

His eyes slowly wandered down to the man's hand as the last of his thoughts turned to what he had said. In order to succeed in protecting Riza, Edward and Alphonse… If there was a chance that they would succeed, then it was what he had to cling to in order to keep them all safe.

"Alright," he muttered at last as he reached out and took Hohenheim's hand. "I will put my faith in you knowing that we will succeed." Making sure to put emphasis on the latter part of his statement, he looked Hohenheim in the eye, silently warning him that if there was one more incident, he would take things into his own hands…

* * *

Edward had felt trapped. Trapped in a near endless darkness, drifting along with no signs of light or exodus. There he had no concept of time, no way of telling how long he had been there or even why. All he remembered was Mustang's face and being jostled around, only to be lulled to sleep by a medley of concerned voices.

Once the pain had dulled, he slowly began to rise to the surface; not enough to completely break through the dark, but enough to perceive voices or occasionally make out blurred forms through tired eyes when the muted conversations turned toward familiar topics. And right then was one of those moments.

Hearing what he believed to be Winry's voice, Edward willed himself to open his eyes, if not more than just a fraction. He blinked a few times, staring up at the blur of blonde and pink that sat off to his side as it came into focus.

"Ed…?"

Cracking his eyes open a smidge more, Edward lolled his head to the side and stared up at Winry through half-lidded eyes. "Yeah…?"

She offered him a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

He groaned and shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable. "Like… shit," he admitted.

Her face fell. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"Whadduyou need to be sorry about," he mumbled weakly, "You didn' do anything…"

"I know, Ed," she replied. "It's just… so hard seeing you like this."

Moving his flesh hand up his body, he placed it over the spot where his wound had been, noticing that it had been sealed shut yet again. Closing his eyes once more, he groaned, "Last thing I 'member is that bastard…"

"The Colonel," Winry asked for clarification.

"Yeah…" But before that what had there been? He vaguely remembered being picked up by the Colonel in the tunnels, but the details before that were fuzzy. Wracking his brain, Edward dug deeper into his subconscious to try and—

With a gasp his eyes flew open. "A-Al," he breathed as he turned his head to the side. "Where… Where is he…?"

"Brother?"

Rolling his eyes upward, he saw the seven-foot-tall suit of armor that was his brother standing above him, soul-fire eyes blazing with concern.

Relieved and slightly disappointed, he screwed his eyes closed and muttered, "I remember… Eyes… I thought that I had gone back to the Gate…"

"You remember eyes," Alphonse squeaked.

Edward languidly bobbed his head. "Yeah… And…" He furrowed his brows as he tried hard to remember if he had at all seen the same white room again. That was just it, though. What he remembered contradicted what he had seen at the Gate. Instead of a vast expanse of white and a large, looming door, all he remembered was black.

"And… darkness…"

Alphonse stiffened and Winry tensed upon hearing his revelation. When Edward narrowed his eyes, his brother said, "That's an… interesting observation, Brother."

"Yeah," he muttered back as he sighed and closed his eyes again. Just trying to stay awake exhausted him, the conversation pushing him back toward the edge of sleep and darkness yet again. "It's… interesting…"

* * *

" _You're… awfully quiet_ ," Pride mused as it shifted. " _Even for you_."

"There isn't much to say," Riza murmured in reply as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of her.

" _Even when you've rewired and stolen a vehicle…,"_ it noted.

Riza pursed her lips to refrain from snapping at the voice inside her head. It appeared to be incredibly bored, just as she had been when it had taken control of her body, where her pleas and words fell on its deaf ears. Now that she was in control, she was able to delineate the same form of wordlessness toward the Homunculus. However, because of that she also knew all too well the pain of that isolation.

"I learned it in Ishval," she muttered as she turned onto one of the gravel roads outside the city. "The vehicles there oftentimes weren't in the best condition. Learning to rewire them was the only way you could deal with their poor quality. Rewiring this car was no less difficult."

" _Still_ ," it murmured mutedly, " _I'm surprised you were… so willing to do such a thing_ …"

"When your life is on the line you'll do anything to stay alive," she replied quietly. It scoffed in agreement and then grew quiet, as if sensing that something else was weighted on her mind… Which something had been.

Something had been sitting there in the back of her mind, festering and prodding at her, trying to recall her attention back to it. The grisly reality she had failed to address before was now looming there, called forth again by her own words.

When your life is on the line you'll do anything to stay alive…

Gripping the steering wheel tighter as she eased the car off the road, she uttered, "What you said before about the shadows…"

" _It's exactly as I said_ ," it began with a hint of bitterness in its voice. " _They are yours_."

Feeling that same ache in her chest again as she pulled to a stop, she murmured, "So that means that soldier…-"

" _You saw him as a threat_ ," Pride mused. " _And they challenged that threat_."

As the realization hit her, she bowed forward and rested her forehead against the steering wheel, gripping it tighter and tighter until she was sure her knuckles had been turned white. Holding her breath, she pushed against her body's impulse to become sick upon the revelation.

" _Would you rather he had taken you to Wrath who would have then taken you to Father_ ," it countered.

"I killed a man," she whispered. "Who had done nothing but follow orders."

" _So you would rather kill more_ ," it growled. " _Because had you been in Father's presence a second time, he wouldn't hesitate to remove your memories and start from scratch. And_ then _you would have no reservations about killing anyone. Especially your precious Colonel_."

"I know that," she answered mutedly as her fists began to tremble. "But still… I've taken another innocent life—"

" _And you'll take more if they find you before Hohenhem_ ," it snapped.

Feeling her despair begin to twist, she bit back, "I no longer understand your motives, Pride. One minute you're wanting me to accept immortality and become like you, and the next you're ushering me toward Van Hohenheim-"

" _Do not misinterpret my ambitions. The moment that transmutation failed was the moment they realigned. My only motivation is to exist. Because the second you are caught up in another transmutation like that I will cease to be._

" _So Hohenheim is the only option I have to hope for an existence beyond that_ …" It trailed off, its outburst tiring it.

"So that's the only option," Riza mused dazedly as she opened her eyes and stared down at her lap. "Hohenheim is the only one that—" A loud bang on the hood of her car jostled her, causing her head to snap up and see what the noise and vibrations had been.

In the headlights of the car she could make out a figure sporting a long, black jacket; their dark hair pulled into a ponytail behind their head. As they slowly raised their head to glare toward her with wild eyes, she froze, instantly recognizing the face.

After all, it was hard forgetting the face of the child she had assisted in rescuing his subordinate. The same child that had later been taken and consumed by the most avaricious of the Deadly Sins.

Now standing before her was that very sin. Cold and piercing violet eyes that bore into her unmistakenly Greed's.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Sorry to have left the last chapter at such a cliffhanger :X So I hope this one makes up for it! I know that I've been saying I'll publish 'Like Family' or 'Expect the Unexpected''s next chapters next, but I had this one done and I always like publishing something on my birthday, so I hope you forgive me! I'll finish the next EtU this weekend. I have two scenes I need to write out._

 _Thank you all so much for your patience and for the reviews, favorites, and follows. It means the world!_


	13. Clash

**A/N:** _Whew! To make up for taking a while, this chapter ended up being around 9,000 words. I admit there isn't a lot of action this chapter, though it has a lot of small hints/steps that will help progress it further. The next chapter will be more eventful, I promise. Per usual, please let me know if anyone seems OOC or if there are any mistakes with continuity. And again, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows. They mean a lot!_

 _P.S. To those that follow some of my other fics, expect EtU and FaS to be updated next._

* * *

Feeling something latch onto him, Edward tensed and thrust his eyes open, ready to fight back against whatever had taken hold of him. When he saw a pair of dark eyes and a face partially covered by equally dark hair, he relaxed slightly. "Whadda hell you want," he drawled as Mustang slowly lifted him out of the makeshift cot he had been lying on.

"We're taking you to a more secure location," Mustang explained as he secured his hold on Edward.

Confused as to why wherever he was was not a 'safe location,' Edward turned his head to the side to look out over the room he had been in and saw a familiar face. Raising his flesh arm, he pointed an unsteady finger toward the blond man with glasses that was treating a set of wounds on the floor near the door and mumbled, "Hein.. kel?"

The soldier, upon hearing his name, looked up at Edward and his lip twitched beneath his mustache. When Mustang drew closer, Heinkel muttered, "Hey, kid. Make sure you rest up."

Confused by both his presence and the lack of presence of another soldier, Edward scrunched his face and began to ask, "Where's-?"

Heinkel slowly shook his head and said, "I don't know, kid. But don't worry about it. Right now you need to focus on yourself."

Before Edward was able to properly respond, Mustang whisked him away and toward the front door of the home. Feeling himself begin to grow tired again, his head lolled to the side and rested against the Colonel's shoulder – begrudgingly, he might add. The thought of being carried around by anyone, especially Mustang, was humiliating. Still, he knew that his strength was sapped and would likely be for a while. Getting to wherever they were taking him would have likely taken him far longer than he would care to admit.

It was obvious to him that he had contracted some sort of infection from running around in the sewers and tunnels beneath Central, given his constant fever, aches, and pains. Had he remained in the tunnels for a while longer, Edward knew that he would have died; it was as simple as that. The infection was, in his mind, severe enough to warrant that. And the only reason he fathomed why he hadn't died was because of whatever he saw down there – what he had mistakenly though was 'Truth.' He had pledged his life to it and, rather than taking it, it instead spared it and guided him to Mustang.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to remember exactly what had happened between lapses in his consciousness; back when he had woken up to briefly jab at Mustang. And as he tried, a faint memory slowly wandered into his mind, reminding him that he had not heard just Mustang's voice… But another one as well. From what he could remember, it had been the voice of a woman. And if Mustang was there, then the one woman that was likely there with him would have been—

"Hawk…Eye?" He felt Mustang tense as he stepped out into the cool night air. Unsure of whether it was because he had mentioned the Lieutenant or because of the weather, Edward again asked, "Where's… Hawkeye?"

The uncharacteristic pause that followed alarmed Edward, because if Hawkeye had been there before, then where was she at that moment. He was about to ask again, wondering if perhaps he hadn't vocalized loud enough, when Mustang interrupted him and uttered, "She's fine."

The revelation was blunt. Almost too rehearsed once he had gotten over the initial shock of Edward's random question, which was one of many that were now flooding his mind. Where was she really? Why was Heinkel there? Why were they no longer 'safe' where they were? All of these and more swirled around Edward's head, so much so that it began to ache.

Feeling himself being steadily lowered down, Edward willed his eyes open and found that he was being slid into the backseat of a car. When he was in far enough, his head rolled back and onto Winry's lap. Squinting up, he tried to make her face out through the darkness, hoping to see something in her expression. But instead all she did was force a smile and place a hand on his forehead.

"You're still burning up," she murmured.

"'S cold," he offered as he closed his eyes again, embracing the tepid touch of her palm against his head.

He heard her sigh and he knew it was because of his condition. Edward _knew_ that he was burning up, and yet his body fought it and told him otherwise. He hated it.

Hated knowing that he was weakened. Hated that he was frail and virtually useless. But most of all, he hated how much his condition was hurting her. All he wanted was to see her smile again. All he wanted… Was for her to be happy.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. Willing his eyes open again, he looked back up at her and murmured, "Pockets…"

She furrowed her brow. "Pockets?" When he moved his head up and down a fraction, she asked, "Your pants pockets?"

Again he moved his head. He had noticed earlier that they had changed him into looser clothing. However, he did not know where his clothing went. He prayed that they hadn't discarded them because—

Reaching down into a bag that had been near her feet, Winry dug around for a few moments before she pulled something out.

Rolling his head to look at the black object she produced, he felt a sense of relief as he recognized them as the object of his immediate request.

Shifting slightly, Winry held them up and reached into the first pocket she found. A moment later she gasped.

Edward watched as she pulled her fist out of the pocket and set the pants down on the bag with her other hand. Holding her balled up hand closer to her face, she slowly opened it and peered down at her palm.

For a few moments she said nothing, continuing to stare down at the items he had so desperately held onto since Baschool. Then she turned her glistening glance toward him and the corners of her lips turned upward. "Thank you, Ed," she said as she curled her fingers around her earrings again, "For holding onto these for me."

* * *

Alphonse hated feeling powerless. It was a feeling that had arisen the moment he found out his brother had disappeared, and a feeling that had yet to vanish, despite having Edward back with them. And even though their dad and the Colonel had everything under control and Edward was doing better, he was still plagued by those feelings of doubt. Because even now he was unable to do anything, sitting back and watching as Winry tended to Edward in the backseat of the car that had been parked behind their dad's makeshift home.

And despite the fact that his dad and the Colonel were a reasonable distance away from him, he could still hear them discussing a wrench in their plan: him. Because even though his safety was just as much a concern as his brother's, the fact remained that his body was too bulky to fit into the automobile, even if they took him apart. Edward needed the space in the backseat more than him and the front was much too small. So now came the matter that concerned him and what they would do.

And judging by their conversation, he knew exactly where he would go.

"What will you do," Colonel Mustang asked as his eyes wandered over to the vehicle, watching as May slipped inside with a blanket and pillow.

His father too turned his gaze toward the car. "I was never one for driving anyways. They gave this vehicle to me in case I ever needed it, but I've honestly never found much use for it. There's bound to be someone heading to Central, especially since so much of the material they're using to rebuild is coming from there," Hohenheim explained in a hushed tone.

The Colonel shot his father a wary glare. "You understand that this is a time-sensitive matter, right," he uttered with a tinge of animosity to his tone.

"Of course I do, Colonel," Hohenheim replied without so much as giving him a second glance. "I understand the gravity of this issue and the complications it can bear. As soon as you and the boys are on your way, I will likely be on the road as well."

"Unfortunately," the Colonel replied as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper, forcing Alphonse to strain to listen without making it too obvious, "I don't think I'll be taking both of them."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his father purse his lips, the thought of his son's large armored body having apparently slipped his mind for the moment. But after a few seconds, he dipped his head. "Then he is to stay with me. Once I am close enough to Central, I will find a way to occupy him until we get our friend—" He stopped when the Colonel gave him a pointed glare and corrected, "The Lieutenant back so that we can continue on to Resembool. From there we will determine our next step."

"And what about our other party members," the Colonel observed, indicating that his thoughts had turned to Jerso, Zampano, and their unlikely gain, 'Heinkel.'

"They are to come as well," Hohenheim replied without hesitation. "They may come in handy when the time comes."

"And you trust the one that attacked the Lieutenant," the Colonel pressed.

Hohenheim nodded. "I have faith in Edward and his connections," he noted. "I saw the way he interacted with him back there. It's likely that our two other acquaintances know him as well, given their division." At that the Colonel raised his brows, but Hohenheim dismissed him with a shake of his head. "Try not to worry yourself on the matter, Colonel. Right now I want you to focus on getting Edward, Winry, and May back to Resembool and away from Liore.

"I will depart for Central City immediately after you leave, and will be in contact with you shortly thereafter."

Alphonse saw the Colonel hesitate, but once again Hohenheim cut in and said, "Please, Colonel. I need you to trust me. The lives of these two boys and your Lieutenant are at stake the longer we discuss the matter."

The Colonel chewed his lip, but Alphonse knew that what his father had said was true. And he knew that the Colonel realized that as well, despite the fact his mind was on the Lieutenant. Taking a step back, Colonel Mustang dragged his fingers through his hair and muttered, "Alright. But I want a status report _from the Lieutenant_ as soon as you secure her," emphasizing his desire to hear from the Lieutenant herself.

Hohenheim dipped his head and said, "I will see to it that that happens, Colonel. You have my word."

The Colonel acknowledged the answer with a sharp nod before he stepped confidently around Hohenheim and made his way toward the house, and Alphonse. Knitting his fingers together, Alphonse looked back and forth to try and find something to make it appear that he had been occupied during their conversation, but was unable to find anything within his immediate vicinity.

He tensed when the Colonel stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I want you to make sure that your father follows along everything we discussed, Alphonse. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir," Alphonse replied, giving him a quick salute.

Colonel Mustang looked up at him and his face softened ever so slightly as he murmured, "Thank you," before removing his hand from the boy's metal shoulder and dropping it at his side.

Alphonse turned to watch after him, managing to see the Colonel's shoulders sag and his entire form shrink as he dragged himself toward the house.

* * *

"Yo," Greed announced as he clapped his hand down on the roof of the car and leaned over to peer into the window. "You're going to give me a lift into town and—" He stopped as he screwed his face around, casting her a critical glare. A few moments later his face twisted with recognition. "You," Greed screeched as he stepped back and pointed at her. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?!"

Riza was unsure of how to reply to the Homunculus's outburst, seeing that she herself was not the object of his aggressive explosion. Rather, it was the Homunculus that had taken her face for itself.

Feeling it push at her from the depths of the Stone, she paused, knowing full well what it wanted. And seeing that she had nothing to say to the disgruntled Homunculus, she relented and felt herself slip back…

* * *

"I could ask the same of you," Pride snarked as she took control. "I thought you were in the bowels of Central like you're supposed to be."

Leaning back, Greed glared down at her. "Sorry, but I'm not Pops' lapdog anymore. I ditched a few days ago.

"So now that I've wasted my breath and told you, you tell me what the hell you're doing out here like I asked. Unless you got lost." Jabbing his thumb toward the back of the car, he noted, " Because Central's that way."

"It looks like we're both in the same boat," she muttered. "Because it looks like I'm not going back either."

Greed cast her a dubious brow. "Really? _You_ are leaving Central?"

Her lip twitched agitatedly. "Yes. I'm leaving." Gripping the steering wheel, she turned her attention back to the road and began to say, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my—"

"No way," Greed protested as he let go of the roof of the car and placed a hand on the hood. Stepping away, he slowly walked around the front of the car, keeping his dark eyes on her the entire time. When he made it to the passengers' side, he threw the door open, plopped into the seat beside her, and kicked his legs up, resting his feet on the dash. Stretching his arms up and then crossing them behind his head, he said, "You're going to take me to the next town over because I'm starving."

She shot him a look of disbelief. But when she realized that he was being serious, she shook her head. "Why should I take you anywhere?"

"Because I told you to," Greed replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, I'm already in the car so you might as well just get going."

Pride growled as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. But then, a thought crossed her mind. Now that she had control, perhaps she could use her shadows again. The corners of her lips curled upward at the thought. Turning her focus inward and toward them, she tried to call upon them. Though it proved rather difficult, she could at least feel their presence. With the Lieutenant's new grip on the Stone and them, access to them appeared to be limited. But with her familiarity of their function, she supposed, she could gather enough of the energy that radiated from the Stone to produce at least one. _That_ should be enough for what she had had in mind.

"Sorry Greed," she purred as a small shadow loosely materialized and began to slowly crawl up the console. "But the only place you'll be going is outside the car in pieces—"

She was cut off when the shadow hissed and trembled before it burst into red sparks. Pushing back against her will, the Lieutenant cut in and said, " _Sorry, but I won't allow you do that."_

Pride released one of her hands and hit the steering wheel. "Why are you interfering," she hissed.

" _Because I won't allow you to harm him,"_ the Lieutenant replied. _"And because I have control, I won't let you use your shadows for superfluous fighting."_

Pride felt herself being pushed back and tried to fight it, but the Lieutenant's constant pressure was too unrelenting. After giving one final push, her will buckled and she reluctantly sank back.

* * *

Feeling the sensation of complete control again, Riza relaxed her hands on the steering wheel, briefly relishing in the fact that this control meant that she could once again feel. That also meant, however, that she could feel a set of eyes on her. Turning her attention back to Greed, his widened eyes met hers and he cocked a brow.

She assumed that he had likely sensed the switch, realizing that he would now be talking to her rather than Pride. Tightening her grip on the wheel again, she said, "The next town isn't for a while I'm afraid, but I'm more than happy to take you there."

"That isn't what I was wondering about," Greed replied warily, causing her to raise her brows in question. "What I'm curious about is why Pride was so willing to hand over control just like that," he said as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Upset over being denied its freedom, Pride shoved at Riza, but Riza remained unfazed, pushing the Homunculus back with relative ease. Trying to keep her voice controlled, she said, "It's… a bit of a complicated story."

"Well," he said as he folded his arms over his chest and settled down snugly into his seat, "It's a good thing we have a lot of road ahead of us."

* * *

"How's he doing," Roy muttered as he adjusted the rearview mirror and peered into the backseat at Fullmetal and Winry.

Winry looked up at him and admitted, "He's doing alright. His fever is still there but it hasn't gone any higher."

Trying to force a small smile, Roy said, "That's good. I'm glad…"

Winry nodded and returned the smile, though it only lasted for a few seconds. When the corners of her lips curved downward, she caught his eye again when he rechecked the mirror and murmured, "Colonel… What's going on?"

Before he could answer, he saw Edward shift slightly, moving between the confides of sleep and restlessness. He didn't want to risk the chance that Edward could overhear. The very last thing he needed was for them to start questioning the situation.

Shaking his head, he murmured, "Everything's alright for now. You focus on keeping Edward comfortable and I'll explain later." But before he could turn his attention back toward the road, he saw Winry look up at him one last time, blue eyes filled with worry. In the same instance, he felt May's eyes on him as well, the young Xingese girl's piqued curiosity as formidable as Winry's. She had been seated in the seat beside him for the majority of the ride and had uttered only a few words. He knew that she too was as in the dark about everything that the rest of them were, knowing only that the Lieutenant had disappeared and that they were all potentially in danger.

Still, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on the topic for much longer. It was out of his control now and in Hohenheim's hands. If he told her, told them, then those feelings could very well push themselves to the surface. And if they did, there was no guarantee he would be able to hold back his worry. His fear.

So he resolved to bottle it and keep a self-assured expression. Keeping focused on the task at hand, and holding tight to his resolution, he tore his eyes away from hers and focused on the dark road ahead them.

* * *

The tale, which she had thought would have taken minutes to explain, ended up taking up the majority of their time spent on the road, often interrupted by a question from Greed; the ask almost too pointed to be a simple question. As if he were frightened of the same fate befalling Pride. Aside from that, however, he listened intently, absorbed in the tale she wove as she explained the time from her initial encounter with Pride to the moment they were experiencing right then.

It felt strangely liberating explaining it to him, though she assumed it was mostly because she was forcing herself to relisten to and reanalyze the situation again in an attempt to come to terms with it. And although it was helping, she knew that the initial impact of the scenario was still premature in her mind, as if she were still in a phase of shock. Because no matter how much she explained or how detailed she got, she still felt a tightness in her chest that would not release. She knew that she hadn't completely come to terms with it and knew that that knot was there specifically for the moment the realization would sink in…

Unfortunately, the 'next town over' was about a two-hour drive from their desolate location. And, unfortunately for the two of them, the car ended up having only an hour's worth of gas in it, which had been nearly enough time for her to explain the situation in bulk. Riza swore under her breath as the car stuttered beneath them. Maneuvering the vehicle off of the road, she pulled onto a patch of grass. The engine groaned one final time before it stopped along with the car. Grasping the wheel with both hands, she squeezed her eyes shut, already feeling a headache begin to set in.

Shooting her a confused look, Greed uttered, "What? What is it?"

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she dipped her head slightly and explained, "I ran out of gas."

Greed scoffed. "Are you serious? You didn't stop to consider you could run out of gas before you left?"

"I didn't stop to consider it seeing that I took this car." With a sigh, she added, "I didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

Greed's eyes widened. "Wait… You're telling me you _stole_ it?"

She slowly nodded and said, "At the moment, I had no other choice—"

She was cut off by Greed's cackle. Turning toward him, she watched as he threw his head back and continued to guffaw. This continued on for a few more moments before he took a few sharp breaths and shook his head. Glancing back at her, he wiped away a false tear from beneath his eye and gasped, "You're telling me that _you_ stole a car? A military dog sworn to protect the people and their interests?" Before she could answer his rhetoric, he shook his head again and added, "I didn't realize that your morals had changed as well."

Riza opened her mouth to counter his argument but stopped. While she had taken a vehicle before under the name of the military, this had been an entirely new situation for her. Thinking back, Pride had been the one to convince her to do it, but she had done it for her own personal gain. To escape.

To live.

So was it true? Had she really compromised her own morals?

As the thoughts began to undulate and swirl in her mind, Greed broke through her thoughts by nonchalantly asking, "Anyways, what's the deal with the car? You're out of gas?"

She looked back at him in surprise, seeing that he hadn't a single hint of remorse on his face for his comments. Instead he had turned to a completely different topic. One that, of course, had involved himself.

She slowly nodded her head in response.

He quirked a brow. "Well then, now what?"

Raising a hand to her head, she massaged her temple in an attempt to fight off the headache that had begun to form. _Nothing_ was going right. Absolutely _nothing_.

Still, she needed to keep calm. She needed to hold firm to her resolve. If she cracked then, it would be over. But as long as she could hold off her self doubt and pity, she could continue on. _That_ was what she had to do.

After sucking in a deep breath, she turned toward him and said, "There isn't really anything we can do. At least not at the moment." As if on cue the Homunculus's stomach rumbled. Nodding toward Greed, she said, "We could find something out here to eat and then decide from there what to do."

Greed raised a brow. "You mean out here? Where the hell are we going to find food out in the middle of nowhere, lady?"

She offered him the most pathetically, yet reassuring smile she could muster. "I have a few skills I could utilize," she offered. Despite him raising a dubious brow, she knew that the Homunculus was, at the very least, interested in what she had to say. Especially if it meant food.

* * *

Knowing full well that it was possible Central troops had discovered that she had slipped away from Central and were currently in pursuit, Riza took the extra precaution of pushing the car further into the brush, just out of sight of the road. Or at least Greed had, once she had assured him that her training had included both survival and food surveillance. After that, he seemed slightly more eager to comply.

They only had to advance a few hundred meters from the hidden car before they came upon a small clearing devoid of any trees or brush. Stepping into it, Riza surveyed the area and decided that it would be enough for the time being.

"Since it looks like we may be stuck here for the night, we should start gathering things to make something," Riza muttered as she peered into the darkness. They were fortunate that it was close to being a full moon, giving them a decent amount of light to work with. "I'll see what I can do about trapping food if you would like to pick up some dried leaves and twigs for a fire. It might be able to jumpstart dinner."

The Homunculus's eyes lit up at the mention of dinner, though he quickly masked his reaction with a passive shrug of his shoulders. "Eh, I guess I could do that," he muttered before he looked down and spied a rock by the toe of his boot. After kicking it out of the way, he slouched slightly and stalked toward the other side of the clearing, throwing quick glances at different parts of the ground in an attempt to find anything that could be used for kindling.

Whether or not he would actually pick up anything was debatable, but for the moment she was thankful that he actually appeared to be helping.

Pride scoffed in her ear. _"I'm surprised you were able to get him to do anything."_

"Well," Riza murmured as she bent down near a tree and began to pick at some of the ivy vine that wrapped around it, "The quickest way into a man's heart is his stomach, so the mention of food has gained me an ally… At least for now. Besides, I'm sure he knows that the sooner he finds what I asked of him, the sooner he can eat."

" _Clever_ ," Pride mused. " _However, what makes you think he'll remain an ally?_ _Greed doesn't necessarily seek out friends. He wants nothing more than pawns he can manipulate for his own gain._ "

When the ivy came loose from the tree, Riza carefully pulled it apart and began to follow one of the strands back, taking care not to tear it further. She shrugged. "Then so be it. At this point neither one of us can do anything about the current situation until we eat and reevaluate it. After that we can determine whether or not our goals align.

"And besides, he isn't too keen about your Father. Having someone to relate to might entice him to come and ally himself with us."

Pride bristled at the comment regarding an 'alliance,' but said nothing of the fact. Instead it mused, " _So you're saying the enemy of your enemy is your friend?_ "

Riza nodded. "That's precisely it."

" _Very… tactical, Lieutenant_ ," Pride observed.

She shrugged her shoulders as she began to collect the loose vine by wrapping it around her hand. "It's not so much a tactic as it is trying to give him someplace to go."

Pride huffed. " _Don't expect me to allow him along for the ride. He's nothing but worthless baggage."_

"Unfortunately, that isn't something for you to decide," Riza countered as she slowly got to her feet and began to take inventory of the vines she ha collected.

Knowing that she was right because she was in control, Pride growled and sank back, pushing itself into the deepest corner of her body it could find to sulk.

Dealing with a brooding Homunculus was at the bottom of her list for the evening, but if it gave her some time to herself, then she would graciously accept it.

* * *

After she had combined a few of the vines and twigs she had collected into a simple trap, Riza gathered the rest of the foliage she had collected along the way and headed back toward the clearing they had found.

Once there, she saw that Greed had returned with an armful of logs and sticks and had just set it down on the ground. When he saw her approaching, he turned his attention toward her and acknowledged her by lifting his brows.

Getting down onto her knees, Riza dropped the bundle of twigs and leaves and then picked a few up off the top of the pile. After laying them out, she grabbed a set of stones she had found while searching and began to scrape them against each other over the pyre in the hopes that she would be able to produce a spark. And while she was able to, the spark itself refused to ignite the dried foliage. Getting slightly irritated by its unwillingness to cooperate, she began to strike them harder and faster, hoping the increased quantity would light them.

Suddenly, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she saw what appeared to be a black, taloned hand reaching for the stones. Dropping the rocks, she turned her agitation toward it and batted it away, resulting in the shadow hissing and dissipating in a burst of red sparks.

Balling her hand into a fist, she tried to push back the feeling of dread that its appearance brought about, refusing to succumb to it until she had spoken to Hohenheim personally.

Hearing a small 'clack' of stone on stone behind her, she whirled around to see that Greed had crouched down opposite her, the two rocks in his hands. Without looking up at her, he beat them together over and over until they produced a spark with enough life to catch one of the dry leaves.

Seemingly satisfied by what he had done, he looked up at her and grinned. But rather than address his accomplishment, he nodded toward her feet and said, "Doesn't seem like you like them too much."

Glancing down toward where he had nodded, she noticed that she shadows beneath her feet had slowly begun to unravel and creep toward the young fire, as if attracted to its light. She grimaced and shifted so that the shadow the fire created of her silhouette bathed them in darkness, causing them to momentarily disappear. Greed chuckled and she looked back up at him.

"I don't see why you're so uptight about them, lady. I mean, you pretty much gained immortality with the little switch that happened. Plus, you've gained some incredible abilities on top of that." Pointing toward himself, he said, "The kid that gave me his body would probably kill for that combination of circumstances, so I don't see why you're so bent out of shape about it."

"Because this isn't something I asked for… Or wanted," she answered quietly as Greed tore a few bits of dried grass out of the ground and tossed them into the small flame.

He quirked a brow. "Honestly? Not even a little?"

"No," she replied automatically as she stared down at the growing fire, watching as the flames slowly began to consume the turf. "There is nothing in this gain that I desire. That is why I'm leaving and heading to Liore. Because there is a man there that may be able to reverse this."

"Geez, and here I thought immortality was something every human wanted." When she looked up at him, he continued, "The kid that gave me his body yearned for it, and it sure as hell's got a lot of perks to it." Raising a finger, he said, "You never age." He raised his middle finger, "You can pretty much do whatever the hell you want. And," he added as he lifted his ring finger, "You never get sick. So to me it sounds like a sweet deal."

It seemed as thought he couldn't see eye to eye with her. Riza slowly shook her head. "There is no reason for a human being to live such a long life. We were designed to go when we were meant to go, and I intend to follow that path. Plus," she added, "I have no desire to outlive those I call my friends." When she looked back up at Greed, she saw that his expression appeared puzzled, almost surprised. As if her words seemed to hit some mark within him.

His face scrunched as he mulled over her words before he finally shook his head and said, "Whatever you think, lady." A small grin spread across his face as he pointed toward himself and said, "I'm perfectly content with immortality."

"Then that's perfectly fine for you. I've just decided that that isn't a life I want to live," she explained as she picked up a stick and feed it to the flames.

The Homunculus 'hmphed' and raised his hands to warm them. "Whatever you say. Though it still doesn't change what had happened."

Riza tensed and he returned her response with a knowing look. After taking a deep breath, she exhaled and muttered, "I intend to overturn that, however."

He raised a brow but decided to say nothing else, instead opting to turn his attention back toward the fire. But after a few moments of silence, he shot her a sideways glance and said, "Color me curious, but what does that ingrate think of your little switcheroo?"

Riza opened her mouth to respond, but promptly closed it. She didn't have the right to respond for the Homunculus, especially since it had barely said anything in regards to their current situation, aside from urging her to find Van Hohenheim. Honestly, she didn't know how it _truly_ felt.

Reacting to his challenge, Pride frowned and pushed at Riza's mental barrier, silently urging her to drop her wall so that it could address the other Homunculus itself. She paused, slightly guarded against its intentions.

The Homunculus growled and muttered, _"Only I can speak for myself. Let me properly address him."_

" _ **Your comment earlier hardly convinced me that you would act favorably toward him,"**_ she projected inwardly.

It huffed. _"You act as though my words can penetrate his Ultimate Shield. In case you don't remember, I had to gather what energy I could muster to even produce one miniscule shadow."_

She couldn't deny that it was right. The amount of energy it had managed to siphon had hardly been enough to even produce anything formidable. But still, she wasn't obliged to bend to its whims, especially when it had hardly given her the time of day when she had constantly begged it to address the Colonel. No… She wasn't obliged at all. Now that she was in control, she had the power to deny it just as it had her—

As if sensing her borderline decision, it grumbled, _"I should be able to express myself when asked. That is the very least you could do for me."_

She thought to point out what she had noted moments before, but something caused her to pause and reconsider. By denying it its voice, she would stoop to a level as low as its when it was in control. The realization that she had had the thought of doing so just because she was not obliged to was so… pretentious.

And that, she realized, would make her no better than the sin that possessed her.

Allowing her mental wall to loosen, she turned her thoughts inward and said, _"_ _ **If you attempt what you did before, I won't allow you to surface again.**_ _"_

The Homunculus paused, as if surprised by her response. But after a few moments, it pushed its way toward the surface with more ease and answered back a haughty, _"Thanks."_

* * *

Seemingly recognizing the change in control, Greed raised a hand and threw her a wave of greeting. "There you are," he muttered monotonously, "It's been far too long."

Pride rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare act buddy-buddy, Greed. I trust you about as much as I would a venomous snake."

The other Homunculus shrugged his shoulders, his expression dictating his lack of reaction to her claim. "That's fine because I don't trust you either. The only reason I'm sticking around is because I know the Lieutenant isn't going to let you chop my head off."

Pride cocked a suspicious brow. "No. You're staying around because she offered to feed you."

"And so what if I am? She offered it and I graciously accepted," he countered as he thrust his thumb toward himself. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Pride wrinkled her nose. "You're as rapacious as ever."

Greed scoffed. "And you're just as pretentious as you were before."

"And you're just as stupid as you have always been."

Greed lifted a brow. "And how exactly would you know that? I thought you didn't remember anything about your first life."

"So what," Pride growled before turning away and toward the fire. Anything to escape her 'sibling's' patronizing glare. When she heard him take a breath to respond, she hurriedly picked up a piece of pyre to throw onto the growing flames. Once it made contact with the rest of the combusting material, it crackled and collapsed on itself.

"You know," Greed began after a few moments as he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned in toward the flames, "Pops had ordered me to kill you if you had really gone rogue."

Pride looked up at him again to see that his expression had turned somber. "That's impossible," she scoffed. "Father would never order such a thing. I haven't done anything to make him wary of me or my motives."

"Really," Greed asked as he cocked a brow. "Then explain why you're way out here and not back in Central?"

Pride's lips curled back. "The reason I'm here is because the Lieutenant decided to run—"

"Bullshit," Greed interrupted as he leaned toward her. "I'm calling bullshit on you right here and now." When she scowled, he jabbed his thumb toward himself and continued, "This little piss-head likes to make himself known every once in a while. And I'll be the first to admit that he occasionally manages to get through.

"If you wanted to stay that badly, you would have had no problem overtaking the Lieutenant and going back to Father. So I'm calling bullshit on you."

She huffed and turned away from him, opting to look back at the fire. Seeing that the flames had grown weaker, she grabbed a log from the pile beside her and tossed it onto the remaining wood in the fire. The disturbance of the log forced a flurry of smoldering ashes into the air, the warm smoke billowing up from it pushing them into the sky. As she stared up at them, she muttered, "So what? What does it matter if I ran away? Are you going to mock me for deciding to preserve myself?"

Greed sneered and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. "Not a chance. In fact, I think I might even respect you a little more." When she shot him a confused look, he continued, "The former Pride was nothing but Pops' obedient little lapdog. At least the new you actually had the balls to jump ship." Her face twisted with disgust and she looked away, prompting him groan and roll his eyes. "Or whatever the lady equivalent of 'balls' is. You get my drift."

Appalled, she shook her head and muttered, "Idiot," under her breath as she turned her attention back to the growing flames.

"The only idiot here is you," he countered as he leaned forward again. "Because you were dumb enough to think that Pops actually cares about us. He doesn't care. He only wants pawns he can manipulate for his own personal gain."

Pride scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You only think that because he gave you the dirtiest of any of our jobs. If you hadn't been such an insubordinate, he might have actually trusted you more."

"Oh, really," Greed mused. "Is that why he gave me the power to tear out your Stone upon his command? Because to me that seems to me like a pretty important job."

She turned and shot him a dirty look. "Father likely assigned the task to you to give you some sense of purpose, Greed."

"God, it's like you aren't even listening to me," he said as he jabbed a finger toward her. "From my understanding, the Lieutenant has brains and you aren't using them to actually think this through. He wanted me to kill her and take your Stone back to him. And then you want to know what he was going to do?" Not really giving her a chance to answer, he continued, "He was going to recreate you again. But this time he was going to make sure you were compliant, because he was not happy with the decision the first Pride made when it decided to jump bodies before it had a chance to go through him.

"So the _only_ reason why he allowed you to walk around in the Lieutenant's body for as long as you did was because he thought there would be an advantage for _him_. But when he realized that it was possible that wouldn't be the case, he assigned _me_ to be your executioner."

"Then why haven't you done it by now," she challenged with a low growl. "It would give you the leverage you would need against Father."

"Because," he answered without missing a beat, "For one thing, I don't want any association with him anymore. And secondly," he added as he raised two fingers, "I don't fight women, so you're lucky you have that face now because otherwise I'd probably punch your lights out for being an idiot."

"So you're just going to let me walk scot-free," she asked warily.

Greed scoffed. "Well I'm certainly not going to rat you out to him, seeing that we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere. And besides, I don't have any qualms with the Lieutenant. So yeah, I guess you could consider yourself 'scot-free.'"

Still, Pride could tell that there was something else on his mind, something that was nagging at the other Homunculus.

"So you're here now and clearly not in Central," He began again as he glanced at her from out of the corner of his eye, "So something obviously happened that made Envy come and snatch you. I already know how this happened to you, but now I want to know why."

And there it was. She pursed her lips together and thought not to respond. Though, the longer she maintained that silence, the more the uncertainties began to pile up in her mind. Why had Father decided that saving Edward Elric's life was an inappropriate act? After all, she had preserved one of the five sacrifices for him. The only thing that seemed out of line was that she had taken Edward back to Colonel Mustang rather than to Father. Still, she would have kept an eye on Edward, effectively securing four of the five candidates. So why wasn't _that_ acknowledged? No longer able to agonize over it anymore, she relented to the befuddled thoughts. "I did something… Something I thought was for the betterment of our cause," she muttered as she balled her hands into fists. "And he thought that I had betrayed him because I had acted on my own accord, even though I acted in a way I thought he would have wanted me to." With a frustrated growl, she combed her fingers through her blonde hair and hissed, "And now none of this is making any damn _sense_ anymore!"

Greed scoffed. "Of course it doesn't. You're actually thinking for yourself for once. So congratulations on your newfound freedom… And brain." The corners of his lips curling upward, he added, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

She side-eyed him. "I don't know what this 'freedom' feels like, per say. Especially since the Lieutenant is now in control."

Greed raised a confused brow. "Really? Because it looks to me like you're getting all the freedom you want in the world. At least she's actually _letting_ you have control right now. Because I'd imagine most humans wouldn't hand it over so willingly. Consider yourself lucky. I'm pretty sure the kid whose body I stole wouldn't want to give it up once I handed it to him."

Pride huffed and turned away, staring back down into the flames as the logs within them gave and collapsed on themselves, shooting a flurry of molten ashes into the air. But despite her initial reaction, she knew deep down that what he had said had _some_ substance to it. The Lieutenant should have housed nothing but resent for her, especially when she recalled the harsh way she had taken her body and soul captive. And yet, the former had been civil toward her so far, giving up control a few times since their roles had essentially been switched. And even when the Lieutenant did take control, she never did as forcibly as Pride had done to her. Instead, it had almost seemed like she was trying to enact a sort symbiotic relationship…

And right on cue, as if she had sensed it, the Lieutenant began to nudge her again. Almost simultaneously, she heard Greed's stomach growl. When he looked down at it and then up at her, she understood.

Allowing herself to give in to the Lieutenant's will, she slowly slid back and handed over control…

* * *

Feeling herself once again take control, Riza rolled her shoulders back and tested the notion, relishing in the feeling of her own body yet again. When she turned her focus toward Greed, she said, "I think the traps might be ready now. I'll go take a look."

The Homunculus shrugged his shoulders up and down before slowly rising to his feet. "Eh, I'll go with you. Got nothing better to do anyways."

When he paced a few steps closer, she turned away and began to lead the way toward the area she had laid the makeshift trap. It didn't take long to find it, however, because as they approached it they could hear the sounds of something rummaging around in the brush. And when they came upon it, her initial thoughts held true: the trap she had set had successfully tangled a rabbit in it.

Stepping over to it, she lowered herself down and grabbed one of the strands of vine that had wrapped itself around its ankle. The rabbit rolled around and stared at the two newcomers with wide eyes.

Greed blanched as he looked down at the creature. "There's no way in hell I'm eating that."

Riza was thrown off by the response. He had been the one to complain about hunger, but after the trap had been set and had actually been used to catch something, he wasn't going to eat what they had caught? Had he known what she had meant when she said she would be trapping for food? But after a few moments of thought, and after watching his expression grow more disgusted by the second, she backpedaled slightly, trying to put herself in his perspective. She supposed that the notion could appear odd to him; someone who likely had not ever needed to trap food during the brutalist of winters because the paths into town were buried beneath three feet of snow like she had.

"I mean look at it," he continued as he gestured toward it. "The thing's scared to death."

Riza's face softened, seeing the genuine concern on his face. Turning back to the rabbit, she carefully took hold of the vines she had used for rope and gently began to unwind it. After a few twists, it came loose enough for the creature to remove its legs. Without a single moment's hesitance, it ripped its legs from her grasp and shot off into the darkness, snapping branches and crushing leaves as it crashed through the brush.

The thought that Greed could have been opposed to it hadn't crossed her mind when she had set the trap. After all, it was something she never gave a second thought when catching and trapping as a young girl. At that point in time, she had thought only to survive. The thought now comforted her, however. It seemed that Homunculi were allowed to display _some_ level of humanity.

* * *

Hearing a knock on his home office door, Bradley straightened himself out and called, "Come in."

The door creaked open a few moments later, revealing a uniformed soldier. He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him before standing at attention and saluting. "Sir, we were unable to secure Lieutenant Hawkeye. It seems that she has slipped away and may have possibly left the city."

"Is that so," he replied, not taking any measures to hide his displeasure. "And why do you suspect that?"

The soldier swallowed and reached up to wipe a bead of sweat that had formed on his brow. "Well, sir, we've received a report from the police division from a concerned citizen that insisted that their car was stolen."

Bradley narrowed his eyes, studying the man. It wasn't necessarily the fact that they had let her go that was upsetting the man. Instead, it seemed, there was something else on his mind. Something that terrified him more than the prospect of facing the Fuhrer's wrath for allowed the accused escape.

"What else," he pressed without hesitation. "What else do you have to report, soldier?" The man hesitated, but when Bradley scowled, he stood at attention again.

"Well, sir. The division that combed the area near where the car was taken found… something."

"'Something else,'" Bradley reiterated. "What else did you find?"

The soldier sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves before he slowly exhaled. "Fuhrer, sir; we found the remains of one of the division members. He was… unrecognizable, sir.

"It looked as though he had been torn to shreds. We are going to examine his dental records, but we are confident that it is the soldier in question."

"I see," Bradley answered evenly. "And what do you think happened to him?"

Slightly taken aback by the question, the soldier hesitated to think about it. But after a few moments of contemplating it, he responded, "I honestly don't know, sir. It just… I don't know."

Bradley closed his eye and sighed, admittedly thankful that the soldier was as clueless as he had hoped he would be. And he intended on keeping it that way. "Thank you, soldier. If you receive anymore information, please let me know."

"I will, sir," he began. "And—"

"That is all, soldier," Bradley answered passively as he waved him away.

"Ah, yes, sir," the man replied quickly as he took a step back and reached behind him to find the door handle. When he found it and pushed the door open he saluted once more.

Giving him a dismissive salute, Bradley watched as the soldier ducked out of the office and closed the door behind him. When the sound of his footsteps died away, Bradley muttered, "Did you hear that, Envy?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Turning toward his right, Wrath watched as a burst of red sparks shot out from behind the plant stationed in the corner of the room. As Envy began to change its shape from a mouse back into its humanoid form, it grumbled, "How are we supposed to explain that one away? Shoulda just sent me to get her like last time."

"With how small the circle of people is that actually know, and with my orders, it's doubtful that anything will come to light," Wrath implied. "What I'm more concerned about is the fact that Pride decided to run."

"Heh, told you Pride changed," Envy countered as it leaned on the corner of Wrath's desk. "And now it's going to be more difficult to get her to come back."

"Admittedly yes," Wrath agreed as he laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the desk. "It will be quite difficult returning Pride to Central. But," he continued as his eyes wandered back over to Envy, "It is not impossible.

"You see, we require that Pride be present for the Promised Day, just as Father had planned. But I'm confident that she will be there that day."

Shooting him a confused glare, Envy countered, "What makes you so sure? I mean, they have four of our sacrifices with them. What's stopping them from hightailing it out of the country. Especially since Pride has enough information to give them about our plan."

"Oh," Wrath replied confidently as he closed his eye. "I assure you that knowledge of our plan will entice them to come. And when they do," he added with a faint smile, "Pride _will_ deliver to us our fifth and final sacrifice of its own volition. After all, it's in its nature."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** _I apologize because I know I said I would get EtU out before this, but I found this chapter a lot easier to write than fluff. But rest assured, EtU is halfway done and is my top priority aside from another project I'm working on. This chapter is essentially a lead up to a larger, more action-packed chapter that will be a vital component to this story. Thank you for all of the favorites, reviews, and follows, and please don't hesitate to tell me if the pacing seems off or if anyone is OOC. Thank you!_

* * *

"Then why don't I feel confident about what you just told me," Envy challenged as it placed its hands on its hips and shot Wrath a dubious look.

Wrath folded his hands atop his desk and closed his eye. To think that it would believe they would simply allow her to wander around like that was asinine. He had already established that Pride's presence was necessary on the Promised Day. Father's recounting of what had occurred when he encountered Pride before was one seeping with bitterness. It seemed that is attempt at drawing her Stone out resulted in a rebound, and Pride subsequently fled. Though that wasn't the most concerning thing according to Father…

"Like I said, I understand your concern. However," he continued, focusing his stare on Envy once again, "I can assure you that Father has a plan to ensure that Pride _will_ return. And that part of the plan, Envy, is already set in motion."

* * *

Greed quietly groaned as his stomach contracted once more, trying to push out food that wasn't there. He hadn't realized before that the Lieutenant had even fewer options for food once she had released the rabbit. After that they scoured for what few nonpoisonous berries they could find, though Greed had pointed out beforehand that poisoned ones would have been just as good. Even though she refused, he couldn't help but sneak a few into his pocket to snack on later. But now that those were gone, there was nothing else for him to eat.

Leaning forward from the trunk of the tree he had settled himself into, he peered down at the small fire that was still burning below and noted that it appeared to still have enough wood to satisfy it for the time being. With that in mind, he then turned his attention to the Lieutenant, who was sitting with her back against a log, her head dipped forward and her chin resting against her chest…

 _"So she's finally fallen asleep?"_

Startled by the sudden voice, Greed jumped slightly. Realizing a fraction of a second later who it was, he leaned back against the tree trunk and grumbled, "Geez kid, don't sneak up on me like that."

 _"I didn't 'sneak,'"_ Ling replied. _"I've been here the whole time."_

Greed rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just give me a warning next time, okay?"

Ling nodded before once again saying, _"So the Lieutenant's finally fallen asleep?"_

"Yeah," Greed confirmed as he looked down at her, noticing that she hadn't stirred since he had last laid eyes on her. "Why do you care?"

" _I guess I'm just surprised how watchful you are,_ " Ling observed.

Greed's brows knitted together. "Honestly? You think that?" Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he said, "If it's because of our little pact to get from Point A to Point B, then I don't see why you're so fascinated by that."

 _"That isn't what I meant_ ," Ling replied. _"What I mean is, well, how attentive you are. As if you're afraid of taking your eyes off of her."_

Greed's mouth formed a silent 'oh' as he processed Ling's notice before moving his shoulder. "Well, someone's gotta. And since I'm the only one here, I have to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

 _"'Anything stupid,'"_ Ling echoed back in confusion.

"Yeah," Greed muttered as his eyes wandered down to her again. "Y'see, I don't think you understand everything Pride was, or I guess _is_ , capable of." He paused for a second, but when Ling didn't question him, he continued, "There was always something a little different about Pride. Something that took me a while to understand, but once I put a finger on it it made sense.

"There was a reason why Pride was always Father's favorite, aside from being the first Homunculus he purged from his body. When he created Pride, not only did he make it in his image, but he also provided it with the most souls of any of us. I'd say at least two or three fold what I have. And as a result, I could feel this sort of pressure coming from it whenever it was near me, as though the number of souls contained within it were pushing out against the Stone and forming their own presence outside of it."

 _"I'm afraid I'm not entirely following,"_ Ling said, folding his arms across his chest.

Greed groaned. "What I mean is that the pressure it's exuding, the pressure that's palpable enough for even ordinary humans to feel, is the result of the number of souls it contains. It didn't survive hundreds upon hundreds of years by sheer force of will. Pride did so by the number of souls it contains."

 _"So what does that have to do with you watching her like, well, a hawk?"_

Greed wrinkled his nose. "The reason why I'm saying that is because that pressure I had felt with the Pride before, I'm feeling now. It's been increasing steadily ever since we ran into each other. And," he noted as he subconsciously placed a hand on his sore abdomen, "It's making my stomach churn." And, he admitted to himself and himself alone, it was… alarming.

 _"I see,"_ Ling muttered in response. _"Although one thing I don't get is why you're so wary about the number of souls. It seems like you have a substantial amount of them, and yet you seem extremely concerned about Pride."_

"You don't get it, kid," Greed sighed. "Your body is essentially a Homunculus, but you aren't. You haven't experienced the cost of being one. If anything, you've only benefitted."

Ling wrinkled his brow. _"I don't think I follow, Greed."_

Greed sighed. "Think about it, kid. I'm the one inhabiting your body. I'm the one with the Philosopher's Stone. So if it were to be removed somehow, then I would go along with it because I'm tied to the Stone. If you put it into perspective, you could almost say that I _am_ my Stone.

"From the sounds of it, the Lieutenant is the one in control. _She's_ the one with the Stone now. Meaning that all of those souls are part of her now. If the Stone is removed, then she and the rest of those souls would be removed along with it."

 _"So what you're saying,"_ Ling stated, _"Is that the Lieutenant is essentially a Philosopher's Stone now. With that reasoning it would be like what you discussed with her before: She would have immortality… To some extent anyways."_

"Bingo," Greed confirmed as the corners of his lips turned downward. "Although, you should keep in mind too that having all of those souls I told you about can come at a cost."

 _"What do you mean by that,"_ Ling pressed.

"These souls are giving me my immortality," Greed began to slowly explain. "But in order to maintain it, I have to keep them all under control. Y'see, what you're experiencing and what I'm experiencing are two entirely different things. You might vaguely hear them as you continue to dwell outside the Stone, and that's because I'm the one that's buffering them.

"I'll admit that it was a bit difficult righting myself after taking your body, what with their constant screams and noise and what have you. Hell, I'll admit sometimes that I falter and they pick up on it by turning up the volume. Even so," he added, "I have a handle on them for the most part. I'd even say better than the others at times. But for her it's an entirely different story. Because those souls are even more restless and more numerous. All of them teeming around inside the Stone? It can be maddening…"

 _"I… Never thought about it that way,"_ Ling admitted. _"I never realized it was such a strain on you."_

Greed sniffed. "Well now you know."

 _"Are you going to tell her then? About what you just told me?"_

Greed frowned, offended. "Of course I am. What do you think I am? Of course I'm gonna tell her. And in exchange, she'll give me her undivided loyalty and abilities."

 _"Wait,"_ Ling interrupted. _"So the whole reason why you're going that extra mile is so that you can_ benefit _from her?"_

Greed leaned back against the tree trunk, a small smirk spreading across his face as he crossed his arms behind his head. "In case you didn't realize, I do things for the sole benefit of myself, kid. But hey, it'll still benefit her too. It's like killing two birds with one stone. I get the luxury of having Pride's abilities on my side, and in turn she gets advice on how to stay sane from her wonderful older brother."

 _"'Older…'"_ Ling echoed. _"Wait. I thought you said Pride was older than you."_

"The old Pride was," Greed countered. "But now since she was technically made Pride _after_ I took your body, that makes me the oldest."

Ling scoffed. _"I'm not going to argue with you over some asinine detail like that, despite the fact that you have the body of a 15-year-old, whereas she's in her 20s. But that's beside the point._

 _"What I will say,"_ he continued, _"Is that I hope you realize she wants to be reunited with her superior officer. She isn't going to just drop everything and follow you because you gave her some advice."_

Greed moved his shoulders up and down. "Believe whatever you want kid, but I know the type. She's loyal to a fault and would give anything to make sure that he's safe. So once she figures out that reuniting with him could cost him his position in power, job, or even life, I'm sure she'll see things my way.

"Of course, if he wants to defect then that would change everything."

Ling's lip curled upward with distaste and he opened his mouth to say something, but promptly closed it and refrained. Greed raised his brows in satisfaction, believing that he had won. Though, a beat later his 'victory' was rebuked.

" _Well you're doing a lousy job watching out for her_ ," Ling finally said. " _Because I don't see her around anywhere."_

"Huh," Greed grumbled as he pushed himself off of the tree trunk to glance over the edge. "What're you—" He stopped, realizing that the kid had been right; he was looking at the right spot, where he had last seen her. However, the Lieutenant was no longer there.

* * *

After giving the door of the home he had stopped by a few hard rasps once more, Hohenheim took a step back and strained to listen. This time he heard a pair of feet padding across the home's wooden floors, and a sense of relief washed over him. A small smile tugged at his lips as the door's locks were unhinged, allowing the home's owner to open the door to greet him.

The man, no more than fifty, blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes.

Cocking his head slightly and shoving his hands into his pockets, Hohenheim said, "I apologize for waking you, James. I figured you would have been awake by this time to do your weekly pick-up from Central."

"No," James said through a yawn, wiping his eyes again. "It's fine, it's fine. Normally I would be, but I picked up enough supplies to last us a few weeks this last time. I won't need to go back until the eighteenth."

"Oh, I see," Hohenheim replied, raising his brows. "Well then, I won't trouble—"

"Not at all, not at all," James replied with a wave of his hand. "Go on. Tell me what you were going to say. After all, I still owe you for helping me reroof my grandmother's house. I couldn't have done it without you."

"It was no trouble at all, really," Hohenheim answered as he raised his hands. "I just came by to see if you were going this morning because if you were, I was hoping you'd have enough room to take a couple of friends and myself to Central for the day."

"Ah, I see," James said, glancing past Hohenheim to see the three men and suit of armor standing at the end of the drive. Looking back at Hohenheim he said, "Well, I have a utility vehicle you could borrow. It can fit eight people, so it should be able to accommodate your small crew."

"That would be fantastic, although I don't want to put you out by taking it from you. Especially if you need it to work."

"Nonsense," James replied with a short laugh and a wave of his hand. "I can use the vehicle I haul my supplies in. I won't put that one of them to use if you don't. Go on, take it. I insist." Before Hohenheim could protest again, the man reached into the change bowl he had on a table beside his door and rummaged out the vehicle's keys. Reaching out, he dangled them in the air for Hohenheim to see.

Feeling a small smile of gratitude touch his lips, Hohenheim nodded appreciatively and held out his palm. The people of that small town had been nothing but kind to him since his appearance there by clothing and feeding him, and giving him all of the hospitality they could muster, despite their less-than-ideal situation. And it was for that very reason that he would save them and all of Amestris. If Pride was as important to them as their actions dictated, there was no way he could allow them to acquire it. Because though his plan was in place and ready, if he could throw a wrench into their scheme before that day, then he would. The sake of the people, of Amestris, was at stake.

When the man dropped the keys into his hand, he added, "Just make sure you fill 'er up before you come back and we'll call it even."

His smile grew as his fingers curled around the set of keys. "It's a deal then. Again, I thank you for this, especially at this hour."

James dipped his head. "Of course! And thank you for everything you've done for us. You're an incredible man, Van—" He hesitated when a voice quietly called out for him. Chuckling, he said, "Well, that's the wife. Probably wondering what I'm doing up at this hour."

"I'll leave you two be," Hohenheim answered.

Taking the opportunity, he waved at the group still standing at the end of the drive, before turning his focus back to Hohenheim again. With another nod, he said, "Well, we'll be seeing you then. Take care, my friend."

"Take care."

When the door finally closed, Van Hohenheim took a few moments to stand and silently dwell on their conversation, and on his thoughts. He, like so many of them in the town, were so kind, a reminder that humanity was worth saving. Even if that meant it would cost him everything. Or, he thought as he turned around toward the grouping, zeroing in on his son, who had been nothing but accepting after reuniting with him; almost everything. He lifted his hand, dangling the keys from them to show the small ragtag crew he would be soon embark with. Save for the one they had saved, who had braced himself against a comrade, the rest of them stood at attention, Alphonse especially.

His grip on the keys tightened as he lowered his arm and began to make his way toward them. With the kindness of Amestris's people, the determination of his sons and their friends, and the wills of the hundreds of thousands of souls within him, he decided he would do what was right. For the sake of them all…

* * *

This time Riza knew she was close. It had been distinct; almost characteristic. A cross between a cry for help and a sob. Just ahead, she had heard it.

The cry of a child…

Pushing through the brush, Riza found herself stumbling into a small clearing. Dusting off the leaves and twigs that clung to her clothes, she took a few steps forward and raised her eyes… And froze.

There, standing in the middle of the small expanse, was a small child with short, golden hair. Small fists balled up and pressed over her eyes, the child was hunched over and sniffling, muttering something under her breath.

"Are you alright," Riza slowly implored, taking a few steps forward and toward the small child. "Are you lost?"

She was confident that the closest town was still a fairly reasonable distance away. So for a child to be out in the forest in the middle of the night? It just… Couldn't be possible… However, something inside of her begged her to approach the child. To comfort her. A feeling that tugged at her heartstrings and told her that it was familiar. And the more she watched the child as she approached her, the more it felt as though she had known her in _some_ way. But in what way exactly, she did not know.

The child muttered something in response under her breath between her quiet sobs before she began to cry harder.

Slowly easing herself down onto a knee in front of the child, Riza reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright," she asked again. "I can help you."

The child shook her head before pulling her fists away from her eyes, mumbling something inaudible once more.

"What was that," Riza soothed, giving the child's shoulder a small squeeze.

The child hiccuped and gave her glistening, golden eyes one final rub before she looked Riza in the eye and sobbed, " _K-kill me…_ "

* * *

With a gasp, Roy's eyes snapped open and he bolted upward, slapping his hand against his chest. Panting heavily, he balled his shirt in his hands as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for whatever had pulled him out of his fitful sleep. But as his breaths lessened to mild gulps of air and = his heart rate slowly began to slow, he realized that there was nothing amiss in the room he had fallen asleep in. Instead, he found himself nearly alone; a sleeping Edward facing away in the bed he was seated in front of.

The rest of the drive to Resembool had gone without incident, save turning down a road or two a little too early. But after a quiet correction from Winry, Roy righted himself and was finally able to make it to the Rockbell residence.

Their arrival came as a shock to Pinako Rockbell, though he did not blame her. The decision had been last minute and without a phone, she would have had to have been psychic to know that they were coming. Still, she seemed to be more prepared than they had expected her to be, having just received a new shipment of antibiotics and sterile saline for her patients. Once she had fussed over Edward and had gotten him started on fluids and medication, she began to ask questions. Like where his automail had gone. Why he had the injuries he did. Why his condition appeared so severe. What had happened that forced them to go there.

Most of them questions they could not answer, mainly because Edward had been too weak to disclose anything to them, only mumbling something here or there about his time in the tunnel; especially about the time directly leading up to when they had gotten him. It had taken some time to finally explain it to her, but when they finally did she eased off them. But when she offered to take the first shift in watching over him, Roy stepped in and offered himself instead, citing that he had gotten a fair amount of sleep the evening before. He knew that both May and Winry had no grounds for denying the claim, and with it already being close to five in the morning, he knew he could get away with taking a short first shift.

His motives primarily lied with the boy's health, having kept watch over him long enough to know his best and worst moments, and knowing that he would be able to detect any signs of distress with relative ease. However, a sliver of his motivation was also that he knew the boy would continue to probe about the situation, or at least attempt to. And if he had to choose who would be subjected to it, he would rather it be him than the girls.

It seemed that he had fallen asleep on his watch. Though he was thankful that the boy appeared to be unfazed by his sudden arousal from sleep, taking note that his chest rose and lowered with deep and easy breaths that indicated such.

After taking one more deep gulp of air, Roy slowly exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut, taking the moment to inwardly focus on the reason for his wakefulness.

It seemed that it had happened again; another nightmare.

They had started the night after his first encounter with Pride, oftentimes waking him up with a jumble of insensible images in his mind. Not necessarily bad images, but not good either. Despite the interruption in his sleep schedule, however, he found himself able to go back to bed with relative ease after he had dismissed them as meaningless.

As the few nights since then wore on, he found that the images became more and more relatable, and even downright terrifying. But moments after he awoke they would vanish, leaving behind the dread that accompanied them. This time the pictures, though disjointed, did not immediately fade. Wrinkling his brow, he played through them and tried to make sense of them.

A building that was part of Central Command, the nighttime sky, his team…-

His eyes flew open and he jerked his hand away from his chest, holding his palm a few inches from his face. But unlike the image that had jumped into his mind, the hand he was holding in front of his face wasn't caked with blood. Silently begging his racing heart to slow, he leaned back and rested his head against the back of the chair he was seated in and closed his eyes again.

"Can't sleep?"

Roy jumped and his eyes snapped open again. Raising his head to look in the direction of the voice, he found himself eye-to-eye with Edward.

The youth's eyes flickered back and forth, examining Roy's face in the dimly lit room. But before Roy could utter his response, Edward moved his head side to side. "Can't either. Too many things going on in my head."

Roy licked his lips to alleviate them of their dryness. He hadn't even realized that the boy had woken up, nor did he know for how long. Had he been awake long before him? Had his distress woken him? Or was it by chance that he had awoken the moment Roy had pressed the back of his head against the wall?

"Looks like you can't sleep either," Edward observed again as he shifted. With a small grunt, he pressed his hand against the mattress and slowly pushed his body up and repositioned himself on the stack of pillows he had been sleeping on.

"Fullmetal," Roy muttered as he reached forward and placed a hand on the youth's shoulder, "You shouldn't be moving around like that right now."

"I'm fine," Edward mumbled as he shrugged Roy's hand off his shoulder and cast him a wary look. "Though it's clear you're not."

Roy pressed his lips together in a thin line and slowly eased his hand off Edward's shoulder, the young boy's eyes never leaving his. Curling his fingers into a fist, he placed it onto his lap and said, "It's nothing that should concern you right now, Fullmetal."

"I think it does," he responded evenly. "Because I think we're both concerned about the same thing right now." When Roy's brows knitted together, Edward elaborated, "You kept muttering something about the Lieutenant in your sleep, and it's clear to me that she isn't 'fine' like you told me she was. So why don't you just stop ducking around it like everyone else and tell me."

Roy shook his head. "Fullmetal, please just—"

"I saw something down there, Mustang. Back in the tunnels," he muttered, cutting Roy off. "Something I mistook for the Gate of Truth. At that time, I had lost a lot of blood, and I was incredibly weak. I… had a lapse in judgement and offered my life in exchange for Al's. But instead," he continued as his golden eyes wandered up to find Roy's, "It brought me to you two without a word. It obviously didn't take a toll, or else I wouldn't be here right now."

Roy slammed his mouth shut when the boy's eyes met his. They were hauntingly dim, though they still held within them a spark of concern. The one thing keeping him awake, focused, at that moment without falling back into a dazed stupor was the fact that he held concern in his heart for the two of them. And yet… He just couldn't bring himself to utter what had happened to the boy. "Edward," he said, trying to contend to the youth. "The situation is complex. What you saw might not necessarily correlate to what had happened."

"That's a load of bullshit," Edward countered. "Because I remember you _taking me from it_. And don't try to tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about either or lie to me again. I know what I saw."

Roy clenched his jaw and fists in his lap as the youth's eyes narrowed. He knew there was no way he would be able to talk himself out of the situation, but in his mind stalling was a reasonable option. If he had woken up and been given a rundown of everything that had happened up until that point, Roy could honestly say that he wouldn't handle it very well. But then again… Edward wasn't him. He was able to reason with certain situations that Roy was not equip to, and vice versa. And maybe it would be _he_ that would be stronger than Roy…

With a heavy sigh, Roy raised his hand to his face and closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Alright," he uttered, "But before I go on, I ask that you remain silent until the end, okay?" Wearily opening his eyes, he saw the boy's determined expression had melted into one of understanding, his golden eyes softer than they had been before. Though they did not lack the resolute mood they had held since the moment he confronted Roy.

"It happened," he muttered with great effort, "Just less than a week ago. When I went to the Lieutenant's apartment after hearing something… Off."

* * *

"Damn it," Greed hissed as he pounced onto a tree branch. Reaching out to steady himself on the tree trunk, he looked back and forth across the ground below. "I feel like I've searched this entire damn area, and yet I _still_ haven't found her."

" _Didn't you say you could sense the aura she was giving off earlier_ ," Ling implored.

"Yeah, but only when I'm within a certain distance of her," Greed growled. "And right now it doesn't seem like I'm in it."

" _Why don't you let me try then. Lan Fan and I were able to detect Gluttony from over a mile away_."

"And let you run off with _my_ body? Not a chance," Greed argued.

" _Judging by what you've told me_ ," Ling contended, " _You don't have a large margin of error, Greed. Meaning that time may very well be the of the essence in this instance. You know just as well as I that you have the power to take my body back with ease. I want to help the Lieutenant just as much as you do, so please consider my offer_ —"

Greed groaned, knowing that the Xingese prince was right. There was no telling where she had gone or why, and the longer they waited, the more likely it was that something would happen. Though there was no way Greed would readily admit to it. "Fine. I see your point." Raising a finger, he said, "But if you try anything funny, you can kiss your privileges goodbye, got it?"

Ling nodded. _"You have my word… Greed."_

* * *

It took Ling a few moments to find his bearings as his mind attempted to process the sensation of regaining his senses at once. The once dull beat of his heart had intensified, and his once muted breaths were suddenly more real, entering and exiting his lungs by his own accord. Taking a moment to revel in the sensation of touch once again, he curled and uncurled the fingers of his hand that were pressed against the tree's trunk.

 _"You gonna move or what, kid,"_ Greed snapped irritably. _"I thought you said 'time was of the essence.'"_

"Right," Ling answered with a nod, focusing his energy on the forest around him. And no sooner than he had, he was immediately bombarded by an overwhelmingly strong aura. He dug his nails into the tree and winced. "I'm surprised you weren't able to feel this, Greed. She isn't too far from here."

" _Remember, kid_ ," Greed argued, " _I can only feel it from a short distance away, so don't blame me for—Hey_!"

Leaping from the branch and onto another, Ling decided he could not waste any more time. He was certain of it. She was just a couple hundred meters ahead of them. He clenched his jaw, pushing back the overwhelming feeling of dread his proximity to it. While he had expected Pride's presence to be staggering and more powerful than Gluttony's, he hadn't realized _just how much_ it could be. The Stone had an incredible number of souls within it.

Still, he had to keep going, he reasoned as he sprang from the branch to another, darting through the trees as effortlessly as he had the rooftops of Central City. After all, he was indebted to the her. Had she not helped him before after their encounter with Wrath and Gluttony, there was no telling what fate could have befallen Lan Fan. When he cleared a small cluster of branches and leaves, he landed on another branch and staggered. As he reached out to steady himself against the tree, he looked down and froze.

He was stopped at the edge of a small clearing. And within its center—

" _Thanks, kid_ ," Greed called, taking hold of Ling's soul and pushing him away.

Surprised by the sudden change, Ling resisted and stumbled back, losing his footing on the branch.

* * *

"Idiot," Greed hissed as he landed on his feet the last possible moment. "Be careful next time."

" _I would appreciate a little more of a warning next time,"_ Ling muttered. " _You caught me off-guard."_

"Alright, alright," Greed grumbled as he turned his attention away from the ground and toward the Lieutenant. "Oi," he called, "Why the hell did you—" He stopped, however, when he realized that she hadn't even acknowledged his presence. Instead she remained down on her knees, staring blankly ahead with one hand raised in the air. He took a step toward her and paused, realizing that she was muttering something under her breath… As though she were… talking to someone—

Greed cursed under his breath and darted forward the moment he realized what was happening. Taking hold of her wrist, he yanked her to her feet and grabbed her shoulders. "Wake up," he snapped. "Snap out of it, damn it! They aren't real!"

Her crimson eyes darted back and forth, unfocused, as she continued to mumble under her breath.

Greed swore. He should have anticipated something like that happening, especially with the number of soul's within Pride's Stone. With his control over his Stone, the thought escaped him that the souls could make such an impact. To someone that hadn't gained an understanding of the magnitude, it could be very easy for them to give in to the countless cries and screams for help from within. And those that held compassion in their hearts were even more likely to fall victim.

He knew that she was talking to one of them, or rather, she believed she was. But he knew that the amount of time that passed since they had become one with the Stone had been far too great. Their physical bodies, their memories, were all erased, leaving behind nothing more than mindless forms of energy begging for release. It was something he had grown familiar with very quickly, and something he had to force himself to ignore. Their cries were nothing but knee-jerk reactions to their eternal despair.

And she had constructed one of them in her mind, fully believing that she was speaking to one of them.

"Damn it," he snarled as he gave her a sturdy shake, "You need to wake up! They aren't real."

She gasped as her head snapped back, her body shocked by the sudden barrage of brutality. Dipping forward and pressing her palms to her knees, she drew in a deep breath and gagged. Not giving her a chance to catch her breath, Greed grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. "What the hell are you thinking?! Do you want to lose your soul?"

"I could ask the same of you," she snapped as she raised her head and glared at him.

Greed sneered. Not who he was expecting to see. "What the hell are you up to, Pride," he growled. "Where's the Lieutenant?"

"Sleeping," Pride growled. "Just like I should be."

Greed wrinkled his brow. "What are you talking about? You were sleeping the entire time?"

Pride scoffed. "Of course I was. What else would I be doing in the middle of the night?" He felt the color drain from his cheeks, and Pride likely took notice. "Why," she argued as she looked away from him and around at their surroundings. She stopped, however, when she realized that they were no longer at the small campsite they had built. Snapping her head back to look at him, she muttered, "Where are we?"

Greed pulled his hands off of her shoulders and raised them in the air. "Wherever the hell the Lieutenant decided to take us."

Her brows furrowed. "But she's sleep…" Pride's eyes narrowed. "You mean she came all the way here in her sleep?"

"Yeah," Greed confirmed. "And she was trying to talk to one of the souls within the Stone."

After taking a few moments to process Greed's words, Pride's lips curled back. "Idiot," she hissed. "Can't even tell the difference between what's real and what's not."

"Doesn't matter right now," Greed muttered. "What matters is the fact that she's trying to console the souls within the Stone. You know just as well as I that attempting to talk to them could consume her and cause an imbalance with the other souls in your Stone – which would include you."

"Of course I know that," she muttered. "And had I known, I would have stopped it. Because I know what that would entail."

Folding his arms over his chest, Greed grumbled, "Then if that's the case, you need to stay awake when she's sleeping and vice versa. It might put a greater strain on her body, but it's what needs to be done until she can learn to ignore them."

Pride huffed. "Who knows how long it'll take. For all we know, she might not be able to ignore them until something detrimental happens. And if that's the case, then what's the point?"

Hearing a branch snap behind him, Greed glanced over his shoulder and into the dense forest behind him, noticing that it appeared lighter than before. When nothing emerged from the thicket, he turned his gaze toward the sky. He noticed that the deep navy it had been had faded to a dull blue, signifying that it would be light soon. "You're right. We _don't_ know. But we have to work with what we've got. And right now that's 'time.' The Promised Day is coming, but we have enough time to work around it." Focusing his attention on Pride once again, he muttered, "Let her sleep for right now, but keep a wary eye out in case she tries it again. We'll deal with what happened when she wakes up."

"And once she does," Pride questioned.

"Then we figure it out from there," Greed answered, setting his eyes on the now rising sun.

He could feel Pride's eyes on him, so it came as no surprise when she muttered, "Why do you even care this much?"

Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it peeked over the trees, he moved his shoulders up and down. "I don't know. Probably because I'm in too deep. Or," he added, "Maybe because I have no desire to die by her hand."

* * *

Tipping his hat back just enough to see the sky, but enough to block out the silhouette of the rising sun, Solf J. Kimblee frowned. He had been hoping to find them before sunrise. But now that the sun was clearly showing itself, he supposed that he'd have to modify his plan. Though it didn't worry him too much. The select group of soldiers from Central that had stumbled upon a small campsite just a mile up the road were still sniffing around like the blindly obedient dogs that they were. Just telling by the site, he knew that she was long gone. That and the fact that she had a little help. Who she was with, however, he was not sure…

Hearing a small rustle beside him, his eyes slid over toward the hefty Homunculus that teetered out of the brush, its finger in its mouth. Looking up at him with its pale, white eyes, it whimpered, "I'm hungry. Can I please eat now?"

Kimblee rolled his eyes. He hadn't expected to be paired with it, though he supposed it made sense overall. If their first plan failed, then there needed to be a way to obtain Pride's Stone. Even if that meant devouring Pride itself…

"Very well," he muttered. "Just don't wander off too far. There's no telling when we'll run into them."

"Oh goody-goody," Gluttony exclaimed as it clapped its hands together. "I will stay close. I promise!"

Kimblee turned his focus away from it as it bound into the forest in search of deer or other small creatures, and instead turned to the second individual on their journey, who was standing relatively at attention.

"You know," he mused as he eyed the dull chimera standing a way behind him, "You aren't as fun as you used to be, Darius. Had you been in my company at any other time, I probably would have dispatched you by now." Though depending on his mood after the fact, he may very well do it just because. But only after their task was complete; because at that moment, the chimera was the most important pawn in their hand.

The chimera grunted something unintelligible and blinked, but his response to Kimblee's musing ended there.

The corners of Kimblee's lips curved upward. It was incredible what they could accomplish by inoculating a body with a handful of corrupt souls, twisting the residing soul around enough to draw it along in a way similar to what a puppeteer would. Turning away, he took a few steps away from the chimera and hesitated until he heard him take a few steps forward in response. Exactly like a puppet… With only one goal in mind.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Kimblee turned his eyes toward the rising sun and wondered how it would all play out. After all, the Fuhrer's revelation was admittedly a shock for him. Excitement bubbled within him, and he couldn't help but expose the smile that had been trying to show through the moments following the news. Just as the Fuhrer had pointed out, he was always ready to march under his command, especially if that meant doing so beneath the noses of anyone else that opposed their plans. Although, for this mission he had another motive, something that even surpassed his willful desire to carry out said plans.

Curiosity, he decided to call it. Curiosity to see how the price of immortality took its toll on a former comrade that sought nothing but just mortality.


	15. Who

"So what I saw beneath the tunnels was Pride?"

Roy nodded in confirmation and stared down at his lap, clenching and unclenching his fists. Despite the fact he had the time to process and understand the concept, it still seemed foreign to him. Unreal.

"So the Lieutenant was there the entire time," he mused, his words more a statement than a question. Still, Roy felt the need to nod in reply.

Laying back on his pillows, Edward draped his flesh arm over his eyes and exhaled. "So… Is that part of their plan? Taking us each one by one…?"

Roy's brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together. "What do you mean?"

Edward exhaled, the noise similar to that of a light laugh. Without removing his arm and lying motionless, he muttered, "They got Ling too; that Xingese prince you met before… His body is now the living vessel for the Homunculus known as Greed.

"It happened beneath Central Command. That day we spoke to the Fuhrer… Before we found out what he was. The one they call 'Father' bestowed it on him after deciding that his body could be of use to them. He… planted a Philosopher's Stone within Ling, and Greed took control." Roy's eyes lingered down to the boy's free hand as he gripped his bedsheets. "So does… That mean she accepted it? That she took it without hesitation like he did?"

Roy opened his mouth to reply, and then stopped himself. He… honestly didn't know. From the way Pride had acted it were as though it resented living in her existence; as though living within her body had not been something it had chosen.

However… He remembered how it had discussed her memories, her feelings, moments before it had taken hold of her. And because of that, he had dismissed its rhetoric as spite for being in the predicament it was in. But never had he thought it were something Riza would desire… Not even for a moment. It… Simply couldn't be possible…

Roy shook his head. "No… She didn't," he answered.

Edward swallowed and nodded slowly as the information sank in. It… was a lot to take in and process. Even Roy had to turn it over in his head again and again in order to validate his belief in his Lieutenant. He knew her and what she stood for. He had known her long enough. And yet… Why was there something in the back of his mind nagging at him?

"You know," Edward began again, breaking through Roy's concentrated thought. "After they took Greed, I thought of something. About how he was able to take Greed into his body."

Roy's brows knitted together. "I thought you said he accepted it because he was willing," he said slowly.

"Yeah," Edward clarified as he pushed himself up onto his pillows. He winced and Roy made a move to assist him, but he shook his head. When Roy sat back, he turned to him and said, "He was willing to accept it… But something else got me thinking…" His golden eyes found Roy's, and he continued, "What if it's because he already had that greed inside of him?"

His expression must have looked blatantly confused, because a few moments later Edward went on to explain. "He… wants the throne in his homeland, Xing. In order to obtain it he has to be greedy not just for himself, but for the rest of his clan. He coveted the Philosopher's Stone and was willing to do whatever it took to get it."

"What you're saying is that your friend Ling already had some degree of greed within him?" When Edward moved his head up and down slowly in confirmation, he added, "So because of that he was compatible with Greed's Philosopher's Stone?" Edward hesitantly bobbed his head again, knowing full well the question he had led Roy to.

"And now you're insinuating that the Lieutenant had enough pride within her to make her compatible with the Stone," he concluded. Edward flinched, and Roy realized that his tone had painted that he been less accepting of his ultimate conclusion. It was a theory that was difficult to stomach; one that seemed even more obscene than what Edward had previously implied in regard to his friend, Ling.

Feeling the palpable tension that found itself hanging in the air between them, the youth tore his golden eyes away from him and laid back against his pillows, resting his flesh hand against his forehead. "No…," he muttered breathlessly, tiredly, as he closed his eyes. "It's… just a thought."

* * *

His armor body suddenly jolted forward and Alphonse was pulled from his thoughts with a start, realizing that the vehicle had come to a stop. Looking around the back of the vehicle, he found his father staring toward the front of the truck, his entire focus on the muffled voices of Jerso and Zampano as they addressed someone unknown.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Alphonse leaned forward and strained to listen, trying to make out the words they were exchanging. But after a few fruitless moments, he realized he wouldn't be able to hear and instead stole a glance toward his father to see if he had any input. He stopped himself, however, before he had the chance to ask.

Hohenheim too was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced together. The small frown that was on his face deepened when the vehicle shifted gears and began to back away from the spot they had stopped, though he said nothing.

Alphonse sat as rigidly when the vehicle turned around and began to go back the way they had come, his mind buzzing as he tried to think of reasons why they had apparently been diverted from their path to Central. He didn't have too long to ponder the notion, however. Within a few moments the vehicle had come to a stop and he heard the doors to the front cabin open and close. Turning his attention toward the back of the caravan, he watched as Zampano and Jerso undid the hatch that secured the doors and opened them. When the morning light trickled in, the man they had referred to as 'Heinkel' groaned from his position on the floor, raising his arm to lay it over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

Jabbing his thumb over his shoulder, Jerso said, "Sorry, boss. Road's blocked up ahead. Amestrian soldiers are crawling all over the place. Wouldn't go into detail though."

Hohenheim did not immediately respond, instead opting to press his lips together in a thin line as he contemplated Jerso's words.

With the road blocked their time to Central would be severely delayed and from his father's words, Alphonse knew that time was of the essence. That and… Turning away from them for a moment, he stared down at the floorboards and tightened his gloves' grips on each other.

The Lieutenant…

He couldn't even begin to imagine what she must have been feeling. How scared she probably was. Clenching his hands tighter and tighter until he heard the leather creak from the strain. She had been caught right in the middle of the crossfire of the ordeal that he and his brother dragged them all into… And she more than anyone else had suffered the most extreme consequences.

It wasn't fair…

"That shouldn't be a problem then." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father rise to his feet and shove his hands into his pockets.

"Dad," he asked, confused, as his eyes tracked up to meet his. It shouldn't be a problem? Did he not remember the urgency in his own words? In the situation itself? This road was their only way to get to Central. Now, suddenly, he didn't seem the least bit concerned! And when his eyes finally caught his father's, he saw that he also bore an impassive expression.

And that was what ultimately caused him to leap to his feet. "We can't just give up," he cried as he tried to appeal to his father. "You said so yourself that we have to get there as quickly as we can. We have to get Lieutenant Hawkeye back!" He realized that his voice rose with every word that he spoke, but he didn't care. He was past the point of feeling comfortable because of his father's stoic calm, and felt himself begin to spiral into despair. Lieutenant Hawkeye could potentially die, and it suddenly seemed as though her life no longer mattered.

Or then again… Maybe it never had. Maybe he had put his trust in his father too quickly. After all, he hadn't seen him in nearly a decade. And he had been so young back then; his memories of his father could have easily been manipulated by the optimistic child he was…-

"We aren't giving up," Hohenheim clarified as he raised a hand and adjusted his glasses. "In fact, our job has just become a lot easier."

Baffled by his father's response, Alphonse guardedly answered, "I… Don't know what you mean."

The corner of his father's lip lifted ever so slightly before he turned away to look out the back of the vehicle and toward the heavily wooded area they had stopped alongside of. "I noticed it once we stopped, and now that we've moved away from the area the Amestrian soldiers were, it has become clear that the multitude of souls I had sensed before did not include them. I should have noticed it sooner, in fact, since their numbers hardly correlate to what I've been feeling."

Alphonse gasped, realizing the conclusion his father was leading up to.

As though he had read his son's thoughts, Hohenheim turned back to him and continued, "It's the same presence I felt from Pride before. I have no doubt that it escaped Central and is now currently fleeing through this area. The military must have discovered it was hiding here as well."

"With your ability to track Pride, we'll be able to find the Lieutenant," Alphonse exclaimed as he took a few steps past his father and toward the exit. But when he didn't immediately hear him follow, Alphonse glanced back over his shoulder to see why he had stalled and saw that his expression was far from hopeful.

Instead, it almost looked as though his father were deeply unsettled.

* * *

"Hey."

Riza's eyes flew open and she she flew up into a sitting position, finding herself face-to-face with Greed.

The Homunculus scowled and folded its arms over its chest. "Seems like you had a good night's sleep," he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She blinked and turned her head away to survey the area surrounding them, realizing that it wasn't the small campsite they had set up the night before. In fact, it wasn't anywhere near what she remembered seeing the night before. Riza furrowed her brows and glanced back at the Homunculus. "Where… Are we?"

Greed put his hands on his hips and muttered, "I should be asking you that same question. _You're_ the one who led us out here."

Confused, she raised a hand to her head. "I… Led us here," she echoed.

"That's right," he grumbled. "All because you decided it would be a good idea to converse with the souls in your Stone."

"I…" she began before furrowing her brow. "I what?"

He pursed his lips together for a few moments, eyes scanning her perplexed expression. When she outwardly showed no signs of knowing what he was talking about, he sighed. "Don't play dumb," he said at last. "You must remember talking to someone, right?"

"'Talking to…'" Her eyes widened as an onslaught of memories flooded her mind. Digging her nails into her scalp, she recalled waking up to a scream. Following it as its cries echoed through the stilled fall night, until she was finally led to a spot where she saw… "That little girl—"

"She wasn't real," Greed growled as he lifted his hands. "None of it was real."

"What," she muttered, still in a daze. No, she knew the child had been real. She had talked to her, contended with her. She had given the child a sense of comfort. Offered what she could to ensure that she received the attention she needed. Forming her hand into a fist, she rubbed her fingers over the palm of her hand. She had… felt the child's shoulder under her hand; felt her whole body tremble as she begged for…. "No…" she murmured, shaking her head. "It… It had to have been. I saw her with my own two eyes. She was there. She's _still_ out there."

"No, she isn't," Greed snapped. "I was there. You were talking to no one out in the middle of nowhere. Hey! Where are you—"

Pushing herself up to her feet, Riza took a few steps toward the brush that surrounded the clearing they had been standing in. But before she could take any steps further, Greed's hand shot out from his side and gripped her wrist, tugging her back toward him. She jerked back around in time to see a burst of black spears shoot toward him.

He raised his shield, barely having time to deflect the shadows as they struck and ricochet off his neck, scattering in every which direction.

She immediately stopped her attempt to leave, watching in horror as the shadows disintegrated.

Greed expression soured, violet eyes filled with disdain as they scanned her expression. And that's when she realized the gravity of her split-second reaction. For a fraction of moment, and without hesitation, she had had the faintest desire to harm him. To tear him to _pieces_ in order to get away from him.

"You fabricated it, alright," he muttered, his face then softening. "Those voices you heard? All belonging to the tormented souls within the Stone. Please… Trust me when I say this: None of them remember what their bodies looked like. None of them. They've been stuck in the hell that is that Stone for so long that they no longer remember who they were. So to think that one of them would remember what it looked like in its past life is ridiculous."

"But…" she uttered, looking down at her hands. "No… She looked and felt so _real_."

"Tell me," he continued slowly. "Do you even remember what her face looked like? Think long and hard about it. Were there any imperfections? Any distinct features? Or did she appear average?"

Riza opened her mouth to respond, but then promptly shut it when she realized that she wasn't as clear as she had been before. The child had looked flawless, almost divine in appearance, save for her puffy red eyes. But even then, as Riza tried to remember, she found it difficult to even remember what her face looked like. Reaching up and pressing her fingers against her temple, she tried to recall any distinct features the child may have had.

But no matter how hard she tried, she still could not remember what she had looked like. Instead, it was almost as if the harder she tried, the more she forgot about the child. And within moments of realizing that, the child's face vanished from her mind's eye.

"I… I don't understand," she said at last, when the final remnants of the child's face vanished from her mind. Pressing her palm against her forehead, she said, "It was there just a few minutes ago. I… I could see her face in my mind clear as day!" When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and snapped her head up to find Greed standing over her. The gruff expression he wore moments earlier had dissolved, and the one he was wearing then was more sincere. More sympathetic.

With a small sigh, he shook his head and quietly said, "She wasn't real… What you saw was a collective grouping of souls that arranged themselves into something that would appeal to you. That child was a predetermined image designed to specifically play on your emotions. The souls," he continued, "Want nothing more than the overpower the Stone and take control of it. So you need to get your act together and overcome it. Otherwise your soul will be consumed… And know knows what will become of the Philosopher's Stone then."

A twig snapped and he jerked his head around to peer into the brush that surrounded them. Slipping his hand off her shoulder, he nodded toward the opposite direction and took a step toward it, "While you were 'out,' Pride and I discovered that there are Central soldiers combing the area around the site we were staying at. It isn't safe there. We need to—"

A round shadow suddenly fell on them, and he lifted his eyes to the sky. Greed cursed and stuck his arm out, knocking her out of the way before the massive force slammed into the ground between them.

Pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, Riza turned in time to see the shapeless blob slowly stand up in the small crater it had created from its impact, its large white eyes gleaming as its lips curled into a smile. Immediately recognizing it by its bold black leotard and bald head, she instinctively took a step back, an action the souls within the Stone protested with screaming fits of rage, egging her on to fight back against its intrusive entrance.

Despite having encountered it before and knowing the effect guns had on it, Riza's hand instantly went to her beltline to draw the weapon she would have there. Instead, however, her fingers brushed over the fabric of her torn pants, reminding her that the gun she had strapped to her body had been lost in her successful escape from Father's lair.

"Lieutenant!"

Jerking her head up, she watched as Greed activated his shield in time to block a swing from the monstrous Homunculus. Seeing he had her attention, he yelled, "Get back," before dodging another blow from Gluttony.

She complied and took a step back as a sense of panic pooled in her gut. Without her gun she was essentially useless against it. Or rather, she decided that she was…

Feeling something brush against her leg, she looked down to see the shadows around her feet slowly rise off the ground and flicker back and forth as the screams from within the Stone she had dismissed as 'quiet' suddenly reared up and grew louder. Her head began to throb as the cries from the souls and the situation overwhelmed her, forcing her to raise a hand to her head. She took another step back but then heard Greed curse. Looking up through her fingers at him, she watched as he avoided another swing. But why was Gluttony attacking him? Why was it there?

"Hey," Greed yelled. "You stay _focused_! Just stay back and let me deal with this."

The only reason it could possibly be there was… She took a few more steps away as Gluttony squared its shoulders and opened the pseudo-portal on its stomach, directing its vacuum toward Greed. The latter Homunculus managed to dodge it, leaping into the trees that would remain after Gluttony's first attempt at swallowing him.

"Hey you big oaf," he yelled, drawing Gluttony's full attention onto him. "Come and get some of this!" Leaping from the tree, he landed opposite Gluttony, putting himself between the monster and Riza. As Gluttony turned toward him, his Ultimate Shield sprang from his fingertips and traveled up his arms. Before the former could realign itself, he thrust his armored fists forward and slammed them into Gluttony and eliciting a cry of surprise from it, driving it back into the thicket.

Riza instinctively took a step forward, but was halted when the other Homunculus turned its violet eyes toward her. "Don't you dare interfere! He's here for _you_!" He whirled back around in time for Gluttony to leap forward from the trees and slam into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Pushing back against it as it struggled to get past him, he threw another look over his shoulder at her and hissed, "Run in the direction we were going and I'll meet you there when I've taken care of him!"

She jerked her head around and found the path they had begun to embark on but froze. It didn't feel right leaving him to fight it when the reason it was there was because of her—

"If he swallows you and that Stone then it's all over," Greed screeched, drawing her attention back to him. Seeing he was her focus again, he snarled, "So _move_ ," before he lunged at the other Homunculus again, throwing them both in and disappearing into the thicket once again.

Overcoming her hesitance and knowing that he was ultimately right, she turned on her heels and sprinted in the opposite direction – toward the heart of the seemingly endless expanse of forest and trees they had found themselves stranded in. She did not look back as she heard Gluttony roar with frustration and instead continued her trek away from the fighting monsters to, at the very least, find higher ground so that she could keep tabs on them.

After running far enough away from the duel to have its sounds be reduced to muffled thuds, she slowed her sprint to a canter as she ran out of the brush and into a small clearing. Gasping, she tried to slow her heart rate as she surveyed the area, trying to decide her next course of action. Judging by the conditions of the terrain up until that point, if she continued north then—

"Hello, Lieutenant."

Surprised by the voice, Riza whirled around in time to have something crash itself into her, slamming her to the ground. The shadows instantly retaliated, slashing through the edges of the beast's arms as it pinned her down.

It paid no heed, however, and instead tightened its grip on her, the surprising jolt of pain evaporating the shadows when she gasped.

Craning her head back, she watched as Solf J. Kimblee casually stepped over to stop beside them, bending at the waist to get a better look at her. "It's been a while, Miss Sniper," he said with a tip of his hat. "I've heard you've been pretty busy as of late, so I figured I'd check up on you."

"You're… working for them," she observed, disregarding his comments entirely.

The corners of his lips turned upward. "More like working with them," he corrected. "To keep it short and sweet, I want to see the world reborn. To see what it's like in the aftermath of the day of reckoning."

She pressed her lips together and held his glare, studying him. She had always known him to be one poised on the edge of insanity and psychotic tendencies, but she had never imagined he would throw his lot in with the enemy and essentially turn against them for the sake of the thrill.

"Why do you look so nervous, Lieutenant," he crowed. "You should be happy. After all, we're on the same team."

"We've never seen eye-to-eye, Major," she countered as she narrowed her eyes. "And you can guarantee that trend will continue." He lifted his brows and she felt the corner of her lip twitch. What was his plan now that he had her? She realized that Gluttony had been nothing but a diversion, but even it, Kimblee, and the creature that had pinned her down were no match for Pride if she were willing to give it control. He knew that… And yet he did not seem put off by the notion.

"Very well then," he mildly agreed. "Maybe not exactly the same team, though it's close enough."

Before she could correct him, the beast that had been straddling her lunged forward and sank its teeth into her arm. With an agonized cry she jerked her arm and tried to pull it out of the creature's hold as the sharp needle-like sensation she had immediately registered began to burn, traveling up her arm and spreading to every inch of her body.

"It's a technique that they've apparently devised," Kimblee mused over the chimera's snarl as it sank its teeth deeper into her arm, eliciting another anguished gasp from her as red sparks poured from the wound, healing and regenerating the tissue as quickly as it was destroyed. "One where they can garner souls and mold them to their own desires. It's truly a fascinating concept. One I'm told Pride is quite aware of. Though I'm curious myself to see how it works," he added, pressing his hand over his heart, as though his curiosity was sincere. "So with that in mind, do you feel any… different?"

She jerked at her arm, trying fruitlessly to pull her arm from the beast's jaws. But when it refused to release, she began to beat her fist against its jaw, in turn causing it to tighten its grip. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. The only thing she could even dwell on at that moment was the near unbearable pain in her arm as it continually healed and gained damage.

"Coursing through this chimera's veins is a Philosopher's Sone wracked with the tormented souls that have long dwelt within the one you call your 'Father,'" he went on. "And in turn, that Stone's souls can contaminate other souls, especially those that have already been corrupted."

"I call no one by that title," she hissed through the pain. "And I won't give in to your rhetoric!" She jerked at her arm again, and this time a burst of black spears erupted from the ground around her and tore through the monster's body. Riza shoved herself away from the chimera, squeezing her eyes shut as it howled with pain.

He rolled the Philosopher's Stone in his mouth around with his tongue as a grin crept onto his face, watching as she staggered to her feet and fell back against a tree. Pushing it into his cheek, he said, "What's the matter, Miss Sniper? You seem a little unsteady."

The Lieutenant did not answer, gasping and gripping her arm where the chimera sunk his teeth into moments before. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and slurred, "… No. I'm… It's-" Stumbling away, her back slammed against another tree trunk in her attempt to flee and she raised a hand to her head.

"Are you sure," he asked mockingly, biting down on the Stone. "Because it seems like you're having a little trouble standing up."

She lolled her head side-to-side and then pushed herself away from the tree, turning away in another pursuit for freedom. But after a fighting it for a few more moments, her body gave in to its invisible struggle and she crashed to her hands and knees.

* * *

" _Get up_ ," Pride screeched, watching through the Lieutenant's eyes as Kimblee slowly advanced toward them. " _Get up and run! Do you want both of us to be killed?! Because that's exactly what's going to happen if he catches you_!"

" **I know. I** —" She raised a hand to her head as the sounds of howls and sobs of the souls within the Stone amplified. With a gasp, the manifestation of her soul stumbled forward and fell to her knees, clapping both of her hands over her ears.

" _You can't stop! You_ …-" It was cut off when the swirls of red souls that dappled the area around the Stone grew black. Looking up, it watched as a sheet of ink-laden darkness blanketed the fabricated sky above them. It furrowed its brows. What…- Hearing another gasp, it jerked its head back toward the Lieutenant, who was digging her finger nails into her scalp and gritting her teeth.

" _Stop it_ ," it ordered as it raced over to her. " _You need to stop listening to them! They_ —"

" **They're… saying to kill him** ," she rasped as she clenched her eyes shut. " **I-can't** —"

" _Fight it_ ," Pride yelped, reaching toward her. Before it could lay a hand on her shoulder, however, a shadow shot up and blocked its advance. Taken by surprise, it stumbled back. Catching itself before it fell, it clenched its fist and looked back up, and immediately felt a sense of dread wash over it.

The darkness it had seen before had advanced, cloaking everything surrounding them. Within it, the red eyes and jagged teeth it had once commanded now watching it with earnest bloodlust. And in its center, hands still clapped over her ears and still struggling to ignore them, was the Lieutenant.

Immediately realizing what they had, or were trying, to accomplish, Pride gasped, "… _No_." Darting forward, it extended its arm toward her, it yelled, " _Wait, stop_!" But before it could reach her, the darkness descended upon it and shrouded it in nothingness.

* * *

"Looks like you've given up," Kimblee muttered. "Good. That makes it a lot easier for us." Wedging the Stone between his teeth, Kimblee took a few steps toward her, raised his hands and held them inches apart. Before he could bring them together, a surge of pain tore through his right forearm, jerking it away from his other hand. With a gasp of surprise, he twisted around to see that a long, slender black spear had impaled itself through it. Recognizing what it was, he couldn't help but feel a smile spread across his face. Relishing the pain that was associated with it, he closed the fingers of that hand into a fist. Looking up at the Lieutenant as she slowly rose to her feet and steadied herself against a tree, he taunted, "Oh… It looks like you haven't quite yet." Raising his forearm, he carefully began to lift it off of the shadow in an effort to maintain his advancement. However, another flash of pain ripped through his arm and he staggered forward, faltering and stumbling down onto his knees.

He reached out to catch himself before he hit the ground, but found that he slammed into it anyways. Slightly dazed by the occurrence he tried to push himself up, scrapping his damaged arm against the grass as he did so, and inhaling sharply as another sharp bout of pain tore through him. Rolling onto his side, he reached up to grip his arm… and found that it was no longer there. Feeling himself develop a cold sweat, he jerked his head up and scanned the ground near him, and then discovered what remained of it was strewn a few feet away from him.

With a pained grunt, he bit down on the Stone as he heard the crunch of boots against grass approaching him, turning his head toward the Lieutenant as she stepped over to and stopped beside him.

" _It looks like you've given up_ ," he heard her muse mockingly.

Without a word, he tightened his jaw and activated the Stone's power. Slapping his hand against the ground, he felt the gravel beneath them shudder and separate before bursting into tiny fragments. The explosive power of the small blast was enough to propel him away, sending him tumbling and rolling over the ground. The moment he felt himself slow, he pushed himself up and staggered to his feet, only to have another shadow tear past him and through the skin of his cheek. Stumbling back into the trunk of a tree, he hissed and grabbed what remained of his arm, tightening his grip on it to staunch the heavy flow of blood.

He narrowed his eyes, focusing through his blurring vision and on the outline of her form as the dust began to settle. But before he could brace himself, another shadow shot through the cloud of dust and impaled the shoulder of his intact arm, pinning him to the tree. This time he was unable to hold back, and let out a gasp of surprise as the shadow enlarged in diameter, tearing and ripping apart the muscles and tissue surrounding the spot it had run through.

"Heh," he panted. "Not even close, Miss Sniper." With that he slammed his hand back against the tree and released the Stone's energy into it. A loud bang resulted and the tree ripped in half, the shadow that had been restraining him vanishing as the bright flash of light tore it apart. Collapsing down onto his knees, he slammed his hand to the ground and fractured the earth beneath them, momentarily separating them.

Rising to his feet and fumbling away from the immediate threat, his thoughts immediately turned to the rush of adrenaline that had pooled in his veins. Despite the imminent danger, he felt an odd sense of… fulfillment. As though this final battle had been his ultimate purpose in the grand scheme of this entire, intricate plan.

Is that what it had felt like in the moments before he ended the life of someone who knew they were going to die? Realizing everything that had happened in their short lives ultimately led to that single moment? Understood by anyone else, he was confident that they would have the unfortunate please of having to hurriedly pass through the stages of grief associated with it. But he… He accepted it. Embraced it. The thrill of the fight, the scent of blood that hung in the air. Death he had nearly grasped before when he fought Scar on that train heading northbound was now returning to him with a vengeance. And this time he knew there would be no going back, and held on to that notion.

Propelling himself forward only by his will, he tensed his arm and uncurled his fingers, zeroing in on the Lieutenant's stilled form. And when he burst through the dust and extended his arm, he called forth the Stone's energy to do his bidding. She turned, eyes wide with surprise, and he felt his soul quiver with excitement. If that was how it would play out, then he would go out with one final bang. But just as he was within arm's length, the look of surprise on her face vanished and an almost knowing, wicked grin spread across her face.

His mad dash forward was abruptly halted when a flurry of shadows shot up and ran themselves through him, jerking his feet off the ground and hoisting him into the air. Kimblee's mouth fell open to catch a breath of air, and instead he coughed up the blood that had flooded his lungs.

His vision immediately blurred, and the strength to raise his head had almost instantaneously left him. Rolling his head as far as he could, he tried to focus on where she could be. Feeling the corners of his lips curve upward when he saw a dark blur a few paces ahead of him, he slowly reached up and clumsily grasped at the shadow that had penetrated his chest. Panting, gasping as he heard the crunch of footsteps against the gravel, he looked up and watched as the Lieutenant approached him through the settling dust.

Pressing a finger against her cheek, she cocked her head and smirked. " _Red suits you, Major. It really_ pops _against your suit_."

"Heh," he choked against the blood that had pooled in the back of his throat. "Sticking with… formalities, I see?"

She pursed her lips, as though she too were surprised by her formal tone. Then the smile returned and she mused, " _I suppose it's a force of habit_. _One that I will admit is an undesirable fault_. _Because you hardly deserve to still hold rank._ "

Kimblee chuckled quietly, pushing the Stone in his cheek closer to his tongue. Securing it between his cheek and teeth, he uttered, "Unfortunately… It doesn't seem I'll be military… much longer."

" _No, I suppose you won't be_ ," she agreed.

His vision blurred momentarily and he blinked to try and chase it away. He wasn't finished… At least, not yet. "So," he wheezed as another shot of pain tore through him, "To what do I owe… this pleasure… Pride?"

Her brow wrinkled. " _'Pride_ ,'" she echoed with a hint of disgust. " _No, I fear you are mistaken. Pride is no longer in control._ "

He exhaled and gave her a low, throaty laugh in reply. "I figured as much. I just… didn't expect you to be so cruel… _Lieutenant_ …"

The smile on her face vanished, replacing itself with an expression of annoyance. " _Human beings are guilty of seven vices: Wrath, gluttony, envy, lust, sloth, greed, and, of course, pride. To think that I am not guilty of such is naïve of you, Kimblee_."

"Ahhh," he breathed, finally understanding. "So you… really are the Lieutenant?"

The corners of her lips tugged upward. " _That's right. The same Lieutenant you addressed so long ago in Ishval."_

"I see," he rasped, nodding indolently as dark spots dappled his peripheral vision. "It seems that the seeds had been sewn long before… our little confrontation today. I always knew that you held more pride in your heart that you let on… Miss Sniper."

" _Like I said,_ Kimblee _: we are all guilty of our own sins_."

He gave her response a breathy laugh. "Well then," he added with a small smile, dipping his head forward and closing his eyes. "It would seem… that my job here today is done. It's a shame, really, that I didn't get the opportunity to see how things would play out in the end. Although," he added as he raised his hand and pressed it against his chest, just above the shadow, "I suppose it was worth seeing _this_."

Pressing his hand against his chest, he bit down on the Philosopher's Stone in his cheek to activate it. The Stone ignited and the energy shot through it and into his hand before it rushed through his entire body, and tore it apart.

* * *

 **A/N:** _It'll all make sense last chapter, where I'll have a little more Parental!RoyEd as well! And I know I keep saying that I'm working on my other fics and I am, but I'm stuck on the angst train right now and have been more apt to working on those fics instead. I have most of the updates of my other fics drafted and am currently working on them. I'll try to update them before I update this or 'Hellbound' next. Thank you so much for your patience if you're reading those, and thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows for this fic._


	16. Different

**Important A/N:** _Apologies for the delay! I really struggled with this chapter but then got a stroke of creativity last night. I think it was because I was struggling with Riza's characterization in this chapter. A lot of you made flawless observations about her at the end of the chapter so it might seem odd that she is acting the way she is in this chapter. But just trust me. Pay attention to her mannerisms/reasoning behind things these next few chapters, and pay particular attention to the last section of this chapter. Per usual, please let me know if anyone seems OOC or if anything seems rushed. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

The ground beneath Greed's feet trembled and moments later the sound of a blast tore through the air, nearly knocking him off his feet. He instantly turned his eyes to the sky, where he saw a pillar of smoke billowing beyond the line of trees he had last seen the Lieutenant. Greed swore under his breath and quickly turned his focus back to his 'brother,' who had also paused and turned his eyes toward the sky.

"Sorry, bro," he yelled as he darted forward and plunged his hand into Gluttony's stomach. "But I have to go!"

Gluttony let out a surprised screech and his hands went down to his stomach the moment Greed ripped it out, feeling frantically at it as its body began to disintegrate.

Without wasting another moment, Greed darted away from the decaying remains of his brother and sped toward the site of the supposed explosion.

" _What did you just do, Greed_ ," Ling cried as Greed tossed what he had balled into his hand over his shoulder.

"Ugh, calm down, piss ant," Greed bit back as he leapt up onto the nearest low hanging branch and propelled himself forward. "All I did was tear out his Philosopher's Stone and destroyed his physical body to slow him down. He's probably beginning to regenerate already…-"

" _Watch out_!"

Greed tore his eyes away from the plume of smoke in time to stop himself from slamming into the trunk of a tree. Twisting his body around to avoid impact, he pushed himself off the tree and clambered onto the nearest branch he could find. He slammed his hand against the trunk and hissed, "Would you _quit_ it with your backseat driving?!"

" _Greed._ Listen to me _. You're running around like you have your head chopped off. Think for a second and_ —"

"How am I supposed to think when I don't even have a second to?!" He paused to regain his footing after landing on a tree branch and snapped, "We fell into a fucking trap and I was too stupid to realize it." He pushed off from the tree and landed on a branch that was hanging below the first, propelling himself off it as he continued to race back toward where he had last seen the Lieutenant.

" _You couldn't have foreseen this, Greed_ ," the prince answered calmly. " _You made a split-second decision that you believed was right_."

Greed snorted. "Yeah, and I made a piss-poor decision. I should have realized Gluttony wasn't out and about on his own. He needs someone to control him and tell him what to do. So now I have to figure out who's pulling the strings, and what they're trying to accomplish."

" _I think the answer to the second part of your question is obvious_ ," the prince offered.

Greed growled. He already knew that much: that the Lieutenant was their primary target. Father needed Pride like he needed the Philosopher's Stone that fueled his undying body. There had always been something special about his oldest sibling that Greed could never completely understand. Something about the way Pride could manipulate its shadows. If Father managed to get his hands on her, that would be the end of it. He knew that he would not make the same mistake that was made prior. Father would get back the Homunculus he needed, and would ensure that her memories of everything that happened from the moment Pride took control of the Lieutenant's body to what was occurring right then would be wiped away completely.

* * *

Hohenheim knew he only had a few moments to himself before Alphonse and the others arrived, meaning that he had to take in as much detail from the scene as would be allowed in that short span of time. As he approached the final expanse of thick brush that concealed the area the Homunculus was hiding, he ran down the list of what he already knew.

He knew that there had been an explosion of sorts, though he was unaware of what its catalyst had been. The air lacked the stench of sulfur or gas, or any other flammable substance that could have caused a blast of that magnitude. In addition, Hohenheim knew that the Homunculus was only a few hundred meters in front of him, and was in a state of altered consciousness. It was something he had quickly familiarized himself with when he had tried, and ultimately failed, at separating it from the woman it had taken prisoner.

However, there was something about it that was different. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. It was as though the number of souls had increased, though it was difficult to estimate by exactly how many. His mind turned to possible reasons for such an occurrence, rationalizing that the Homunculus in the flask had inoculated some of its own souls into Pride's Philosopher's Stone. If that was the case, there was no telling how it could alter Pride's state of mind, something he was beginning to fear had already taken place. Because aside from the number of souls, the overall character of it seemed to have changed.

He had already sensed it the moment they had arrived on the scene, but now that he was within meters of it he found himself growing ill. Though the amount of souls did not compare to the number he held, the fact still remained that he had organized and sorted through each and every soul until he knew them by name. But these souls held an entirely different order.

Instead of separating themselves, they remained in a constant state of turmoil, writhing and retching helplessly as they continued to fight for dominance. And they, he realized, had grown far stronger than he had originally felt before. As though they had been released from their bindings and given the control they desired on the most basic of levels.

He pushed the brush aside and his eyes fell upon the form that laid eerily still along the edge of the blast's epicenter. Hohenheim stepped over the bush and paused, watching for any signs of movement in the area surrounding. And, though faint, he could feel something in the distance that felt similar to, though not as strong, as the presence that Pride exuded. His brow wrinkled and, keeping his eyes on Pride, took a moment to hone in on it. The possibility of another Homunculus being in the vicinity was something he hadn't considered, though it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, he supposed. The conglomeration of souls was growing stronger, though it still felt as though it were a reasonable distance away. With that in mind, he would have to move quickly, though cautiously.

His eyes never leaving the Lieutenant, Hohenheim hastily paced forward and extended a hand, his mind reeling with anticipation; the thought that it could awaken and lash out like it had before sitting toward the forefront of his mind.

Hohenheim crouched down and slowly lowered his hand to press it against her shoulder, to see where Pride stood at that very moment. Knowing that if it had lost even a fraction of its dominance, it may very well have lost its control over its shadows. And if that were the case, he knew that the woman's soul would be far past the ability to comprehend its situation; too lost within the myriad of souls inside the Stone to understand the meaning of its individuality again.

So if that there the case, he feared, then it would mean destruction of what had been her body in order to free the souls it housed.

But before he could press his palm to her shoulder, a dark shadow appeared over them and he lurched away, just in time for the shape to fall from the sky and land over her stilled form. Stumbling up to his feet, he watched as the individual raised his hands, a deep silver coating springing from his fingertips and blanketing his fingers and arms. "Who the hell are you," he snarled as he bared jagged teeth.

Taking a step back, Hohenheim raised his hands and carefully said, "I mean you no harm."

The individual scoffed. "Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. Just tell me how I am supposed to believe that when you're out here alone in the middle of nowhere? Seems a little too convenient for my taste."

Keeping his face as expressionless as he could, Hohenheim's eyes slowly slid down the individual's left arm, honing in on the red marking on the back of his hand. He nodded toward it and said, "That's an interesting mark you've got there."

"Don't change the subject," the Homunculus snarled as it covered the mark with its other hand. "Tell me who the hell you are."

He could feel the souls within its Philosopher's Stone stirring, feeding on his anxious demeanor. If he didn't find common ground with it soon, a fight he didn't want to engage in would likely ensue. "Alright," he answered calmly as he lowered his hands. "My name is Van Hohenheim. And I'm— "

"Dad?"

He stopped midsentence and, keeping his eyes on the Homunculus, focused some of his senses on the suit of armor that burst through the brush, accompanied by the three chimeras that had joined them on their journey. Alphonse stopped and gasped when he surveyed the scene before him as he tried to piece together what had happened. And, when it finally came down to it, his soul-fire eyes fell on the dueling pair, focusing in particular on the Homunculus that had challenged his father. Raising a glove, he pointed toward the Homunculus and yelped, "Ling?!"

The Homunculus, 'Greed,' he had learned, groaned. "Greed, kid. I'm Greed."

"Oh," Alphonse answered, deflated. "That's right…"

Greed eyes narrowed and his lips curled back menacingly. "You didn't answer my question," he growled, jabbing a finger toward the suit of armor as he turned back to Hohenheim. "Who the hell are you? And how do you know him?"

Hohenheim lifted his hands again. "As I was saying," he continued with a quiet tone, "My name is Van Hohenheim. It seems you are already acquainted with my son, Alphonse, already. He's a friend of the Lieutenant's-"

"Yeah, I caught that," Greed answered bluntly. "But that still doesn't explain why you're out here in the middle of nowhere. And," he added as the shield that coated his fingertips spread to his arms and up his neck, "It sure as hell doesn't explain why you look like my old man."

"You're right. It seems there are many matters we have to address before we can gain an understanding for each other. But," he lifted a hand, gesturing to the Lieutenant, "Before we continue, I'd like to have a look at her and— "

The Homunculus lashed out and knocked his hand away. "There's no way in hell I'd let you do that."

Hohenheim eased off and took a step back, signaling to Greed that he would comply with his current demand. The sound of metal shifting behind him had tipped him off as he stepped away from the Homunculus, but that still did not prevent him from backing into his son.

Alphonse squeaked and treaded around him so that he was standing at Hohenheim's side. "Sorry Dad," he said as he lifted his hands apologetically.

Momentarily peeling his eyes away from the brooding Homunculus that stood between the woman and him, he waved Alphonse's concern off and said, "That's alright, son." Alphonse still seemed concerned, however, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other as his soul-fire eyes burned with uncertain anticipation. Hohenheim knitted his brows together and asked, "Is there something else, Alphonse?"

"Ah… well," the boy began, tearing his eyes away from the Homunculi to momentarily look over his shoulder. "There's someone else we found here."

Though he knew that at least one other had been involved in whatever had happened there, the revelation still surprised him. Perhaps it was because he had not immediately seen the supposed second person, though it was more likely that he it was because he hadn't sensed another, separate being. The presence of both Pride and Greed proved difficult, if not impossible, to feel any other life force. And his lack of being able to identify his comrades was proof enough of this.

Taking care to keep Greed in his peripheral vision, Hohenheim turned his head to look in the direction his son had focused his attention on to see that the three men that had accompanied them were surrounding a figure they had helped settle on the ground. Though he was still a distance away, Hohenheim could still appreciate the blood and torn clothing that hung off the stranger's body. The frown that had formed on his lips deepened.

They had at least identified one of Pride's assailants, though he had a feeling it wasn't the one who was responsible for the blast. No… the one who had caused it would have likely been injured far worse than what he appeared to have sustained. One who he hadn't been able to identify yet.

Hohenheim reached up and gave his son's shoulder a tap with the back of his hand, and offered him a reassuring smile. "Why don't you go and see what's going on, Alphonse. I'll take over here."

Alphonse hesitated, the glowing red orbs that had become his eyes flickering down to the Lieutenant. An ambience of mixed emotion wafted in the air surrounding his son, conflicting emotions clashing against what he felt he should do and what he needed to do. Hohenheim did not blame his son for his reluctance to go to his friend's aid. It was only natural after what had happened with the Homunculus just days prior. But in the same instance, he could feel Alphonse's desire to approach 'the Lieutenant,' someone he had known and developed a relationship with over a span of many years. It was still a foreign concept to him, knowing that the person they had gone to retrieve was not necessarily the one he had known, and Hohenheim could see it in his eyes and how they tracked back and forth, struggling with whether or not he wanted to follow through with his father's request.

But eventually he remembered that their time there needed to be brief, lest they encounter the soldiers that were still combing the area not too far off. The explosion that had rocked the area likely caught their attention, giving their party even less time to do what they needed to. Without saying a word, he nodded and turned away, jogging over to the chimeras that had knelt next to the felled man. With him out of the way for the time being, Hohenheim could finally figure out what had happened. When he turned around to face them again, however, he was met by Greed's defiant glare.

Seeing that Hohenheim had his full attention on them again, he crouched lower and placed a hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder and bared his teeth. Time was ticking and the Homunculus knew it. Greed had the means to get away with the Lieutenant and himself if they were all discovered there, and he knew it. Arguing with the Homunculus had only driven a wedge further through their brief exchange, and he certainly wasn't winning himself any favors by confronting him again.

With a sigh, Hohenheim backed away and cast his eyes elsewhere, noticing briefly that there was something white lying on the ground about one hundred feet or so from the edge of the epicenter. "Wake her if you're able," he murmured. "I'll be right back."

The Homunculus huffed but did not argue his reply. Taking that as a sign that Greed could be cooperative, Hohenheim quickly make his way over to the object on the ground, and crouched down beside it. Hohenheim was just about to pick up the object to better examine it when he recognized what it was. He gasped and drew his hand away from the severed arm, and his mind began to turn. This had to have been what remained of the Homunculus's antagonist. But… He swallowed thickly, gingerly grasping the limb and lifting it to eye level. Though gruesome, the severed appendage's story was very telling.

The scene Hohenheim had come upon explained to him that the alchemist involved had used a volatile explosion, explaining the crater that consumed most of the clearing. He turned it in his hand, studying it closer. It showed signs of exposure to extreme heat, though none that would suggest it had been near the epicenter of the blast. Instead, it appeared that the limb had been cast away from the explosion before it had happened. It had been finely cut, as though the weapon were incredibly sharp. He reached up with his free hand and clutched at the front of his shirt, momentarily remembering the mind-numbing pain that had accompanied the Homunculus's attack on him when he had first encountered it. And with it being the only 'weapon' he could visibly see, he came to the conclusion that it had been involved in some way. But whether it had ultimately caused the death of the alchemist, he was not sure.

Before he could even begin to surmise what had happened, a familiar voice reached his ears. He looked over his shoulder in time to see Greed guide Pride into a sitting position. It squeezed its eyes shut and lifted a hand to its head. A beat later the energy exuded by the souls spiked, enough to stop even him from taking a step toward it. They fluctuated and churned chaotically for a few moments as Pride tried took a moment to survey the scene before it, seemingly trying to piece together how it had gotten there. Hohenheim observed it closely as its eyes scanned the immediate area before they were drawn to the smoldering hole that occupied nearly half of the clearing they were standing in. Its brows knitted together and he watched as its dazed expression turned to panic. He saw its lips move but the utterance was far too quiet for him to detect.

The Homunculus, however, had heard and he whirled around to face it, eyes wide with alarm. "'Kimblee,'" he yelped. "That's who was here?!" He jerked around, lavender eyes darting across their faces in favor of surveying their immediate surroundings, the shield that had sprung from his fingertips crawled up his arms and beneath his clothes to creep up his neck.

Pride's eyes darted around the scene as well, jumping from the crater in the center of the clearing to Greed, and then to the group that was standing at the clearing's edge. Another jolt of energy charged the air around them, this time affecting Greed too.

The Homunculus lowered his claws and stared off into the trees and swore under his breath.

It had been almost nonexistent before, concealed by the number of souls that both Hohenheim and Pride possessed, but now that Pride's heightened senses had brought it to his attention, he could hone in on it and give it the attention he should have. Something was approaching them at an alarmingly fast pace. He looked to where Greed was, bracing himself for the impact the third Homunculus would bring. But then… it stopped its advance and changed direction, heading away from them.

 _"Hey, I think it might have come from over here!"_

Hohenheim jerked his head up, looking toward the direction he had heard the unfamiliar voice come from. The military personnel they had spotted combing the area before caught up with them far more quickly than he had anticipated they would. He turned around and saw that Alphonse and the chimeras had already hoisted the injured man up onto his feet. Their interactions amongst themselves and with the new individual seemed familiar. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that they knew said individual. He threw Alphonse a firm nod of approval when he began to help them guide the injured toward the brush and away from the voice they had heard.

When he ambled around to the Homunculi, he had found that Greed had already lifted Pride to its feet, helping it to balance itself on shaking knees. He made a move to help them but Greed swatted his hand away and growled. "I've got it, old ma—"

He was interrupted when Pride brushed his hand off its shoulder and gave him a telling look. The Homunculus seemed surprised for a few moments, but when he understood his eyes narrowed and he wrinkled his nose. "Fine," he muttered bitterly, taking a few steps in the direction Alphonse and the others had been before. He pushed past Hohenheim and followed them, though not without adding a warning to Hohenheim before he went. "Don't do anything I'd regret, old man."

Hohenheim gave the Homunculus a few paces extra before he stepped forward, a myriad of questions about its different disposition flooding his mind. The moment his hand contacted its shoulder, a spark passed through them and he drew away, suddenly understanding why it had been acting the way it had been. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and motioned for her to follow. She quietly fell into step beside him, eyes darting up to seek out Greed. Once she saw his back and that he was within earshot, she relaxed.

"I'm not speaking to Pride, am I?"

The woman's steps faltered and he watched out of the corner of his eye as she reoriented herself. She turned her red-eyed gaze toward him, looking him up and down.

He supposed he didn't blame her for being wary. Though he had tried to separate Pride from her before, the fact remained that he had used a technique that had been, at best, experimental in design. And now it seemed that something had happened that was similar in nature, thrusting her soul to the forefront of the Philosopher's Stone that coursed through her veins.

"There's no need to be nervous," he soothed. "You're in good company here."

The prolonged silence that he was met by hardly surprised him either. Something had happened in Central that only she and possibly the other Homunculus were aware of. Something she would rather not admit to a being so close to the one called 'Father' that begged for her continued silence. Rather than continue to probe and possibly push her further away, Hohenheim opted to try a different approach. Because no matter what had happened, he still needed to know what had transpired so that he could formulate a way to remedy it.

He nodded toward his son, who was a dozen paces or so in front of them. "Would you rather talk about it in his presence? I'm sure he'd be willing to offer a different perspective than what I could provide."

Her mouth fell open to respond, but then was abruptly shut. The Lieutenant's hand found its way to her arm and she rubbed it uneasily, averting her gaze from his. After a few moments of thought, however, she solemnly shook her head and murmured, "I'd rather not for the time being. I'd… like to collect my thoughts until I understand what has happened." Her gaze wandered up to his again and she added, "If I may… I would like to speak to my superior officer before anyone else discovers what has happened."

"I understand," he answered, and she turned away, focusing on Greed's back again.

He was thankful she had, because he feared she would have otherwise seen the look of worry cross his face. Concealing it as best he could, he too focused his eyes ahead as his mind began to churn, more questions than answers about how her control over the Stone had come to pass.

* * *

The rest of the walk had an eerie silence to it, the only words spoken being the occasional instruction or apology for jostling the chimera that had attacked her. Her pace had unconsciously quickened and she soon found that she had slowed her canter to stay in step with Greed, the novel familiarity of the Homunculus strangely comforting. She could, however, still feel Hohenheim's gaze boring into the back of her skull.

The air that had nestled itself around the group too did little to help ease her otherwise, despite being in the presence of another Riza had known. While she would admit that sharing space with two former adversaries was daunting, she refused to dwell on it for too long. The unsettling presence that had been within them had vanished, and any ill-will toward her seemed to go along with it. Instead they seemed tense, almost frightened, and she knew that if they were half as instinctual as Hayate was when Pride was in control, then their fear was justified. All that mattered was that they were no longer threats in her mind. It was enough to quiet somewhat the souls that seemed to otherwise flourish on the belief that anything threatening had to be dealt with.

A few stolen glances over his shoulder told her that Alphonse seemed more wary than concerned. She knew that it wasn't something she would ever hold against him, though. He was under the impression that they had rescued Pride, who had a gaping hole in their recent history. There were hundreds of scenarios she was sure he had played through his head in regard to how 'Pride' had managed to escape capture and ended up in the middle of a forest with Greed. And hundreds more that would attempt to explain what went down in that clearing they had been found in.

She was still trying to piece together what had happened herself.

Every time she tried to think about it, the dull ache that had seated herself in her head would flare up and sting, exacerbating the souls to the point where they would become too loud for her to even think straight. Trying to keep herself upright while the questions flooded her mind proved too difficult, so she instead opted to trek onward and allow the silence that had grown among them to fester.

The question of what had happened to Kimblee was still there, sitting in the back of her mind, the dim discomfort of it enough to keep just the right amount of her attention on it. She knew that it was the question that hung between all of them. And it was something that only Pride knew the answer to. They had seen the damage that had been left behind by a blast that could only be the product of the Red Lotus Alchemist, but they had not witnessed the short altercation that occurred minutes before when she had slipped away, leaving her body vulnerable to Pride's control once again.

The sound of steel grinding against steel tore her attention from those thoughts and she looked up to see that they had arrived at a service truck that had been nestled between some trees. The back gate had been pushed open and the eyes of the entire party were on her. Suddenly feeling uneasy, she averted her eyes from them and focused them on the one whose glare did not scream with silent fear.

Greed pressed his lips together, scrutinizing their glares. Alphonse and the chimeras looked away and the air suddenly felt heavier. Only Hohenheim seemed unfazed by Greed's silent shove, watching him with a matched intensity. Before the air's thickness could suffocate her, Riza hurriedly placed a hand on the side of the truck and hoisted herself in, ambling to the back corner. Pressing her back against the cold steel, she slowly sank down to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest, pulling them close enough to where she could rest her chin on them. Greed followed after and seated himself directly opposite her, crossing his legs and folding his arms over his chest as the rest of the party slinked in behind them. Van Hohenheim took a seat just to her left while Alphonse and the chimera she believed someone had quietly addressed as 'Jerso' helped the injured into the back of the truck and helped him sprawl out in the center of the floor. Alphonse then seated himself in the corner furthest from her, seating himself in a fashion like hers after stealing one final glance toward her. He quickly looked away, however, and his eyes settled on the chimera.

The truck shook as the rest of the party clambered into the front and shut the doors, the engine roaring to life indicating their hurry. She braced herself as they shifted into drive and began to roll away, rolling over the rough, uneven forest floor and toward the nearest road.

A road that would soon lead her to the Colonel.

Just the thought of him made her heart ache. It was strange being that far from him without any means to contact him. She yearned to hear his voice again and smell the scent of cologne mixed with the faint aura of ash that always seemed to trail behind him. Anything about him that was familiar to her was welcome in her eyes. She needed that anchor more than anything else at that moment.

And yet…

Within her was the deep-seated uncertainty that he would react the same way they all had: fear. That instead of looking past what would happen he would still see Pride and see what it had done and planned to do instead of seeing her for what she had become. Would he shy away and withdraw the way Alphonse had? Or would he see past it and, despite not completely understanding the Philosopher's Stone, and accept that he wasn't seeing a mixture of her and Pride. That what he was seeing was one hundred percent her…?

She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breathing as every bump and shake exacerbated the throb in her head. The souls had calmed to a dull roar, but the question that hung in her mind remained. And it gave them just enough strength to continue their painful nuance.

" _What the hell happened back there, Lieutenant_ ," a voice in the back of her mind whispered. Pride… The Homunculus had been so unusually quiet that she had almost forgotten it was still there. Riza closed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back against the side of the truck as it slowly began to accelerate.

* * *

She allowed herself to sink into and become immersed in the Stone's conglomeration of souls, slipping into it relatively effortlessly to find the younger, warn-torn image of herself that Pride had taken when it took control of her body waiting for her. Pride's eyes flashed and it sneered, shifting its weight to one hip to the other as it awaited her response.

Riza's brows knitted together when she replayed the question in her mind again, confirming that she had indeed heard it correctly. The Homunculus was accusing _her_ of causing whatever had happened back there; whatever it was. But even she could not explain it. What she had recollected were fragments of memories and thoughts, all of them tracing back to hearing the souls within the Stone. Their voices had grown louder; more pronounced. So much so that she had been brought to her knees fighting them in a grueling effort to separate her will from theirs. After that, however, her memories grew more misconstrued. Darker.

Her confusion was met by a scornful glare. Its lip curled back, clearly unconvinced by her fruitless endeavor in trying to piece it all back together.

She realized that it wasn't going to stray from its proposed belief.

"You think that I killed Kimblee?" The words slipped from her lips were accusatory. Without much thought. There was no point hiding behind the thin veil of dismay she felt. It would get neither of them anywhere dodging the inevitable topic that was to come.

When her question did not seem to faze the Homunculus, she knew. Its eyes flickered back and forth across her face, scanning her expression. Then its lips curved down into a frown. "Who else could have done it? Both Greed and Hohenheim arrived after _you_ confronted him. And you know just as well as I that I don't have the capacity any longer to hone my own shadows."

The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her thoughts immediately turned to a defense. An accusation such as that was not to be taken lightly, something the Homunculus seemed to have no problem doing. But rather than give in to the powerful bout of anger that spiked her blood, she reminded herself to take a moment and step back so that she could better analyze its proposition.

Its bold proposal held its basis on the account of a process of elimination. She recounted that, in the final moments before her consciousness fled her, neither Greed nor Gluttony had been present, the former having driven the latter away to grant her egress. If what Greed had claimed were true and, by what she had witnessed, Hohenheim really did appear after he had, then that would exclude the Elrics' father as well, though with a creed similar to his sons', she doubted he would do something so out of character.

The thought that Kimblee had taken his own life momentarily crossed her mind, though she felt she had to dismiss it. Though the moments she had spent with him during the war were unpleasant, she felt that she had gathered enough of him to determine the type of man he was beneath his psychotic tendencies. And what she had gathered was that, despite his sometimes reckless endeavors, he was a man too proud of his 'achievements' to do so.

But then… she still could not discount the fact that Pride was not opposed to killing, something it had demonstrated time and time again. She raised her eyes and caught its unwavering gaze, watching it back with equivalent disdain. Though it claimed to no longer have control over its shadows, how likely was it that that was the case? After all, it had managed to produce some semblance of its shadows before when it had confronted Greed. To think that it couldn't somehow take control during a moment of weakness would be foolish of her because it knew that the voices that once clouded its mind and nearly drove it mad had instead plagued hers. Their connection to Pride no longer required it to expend its energy to suppress them, and instead gave it the opportunity to flourish where she would fail.

The corners of its mouth tugged downward and it snarled, "You think I'm lying? Even when you've seen for yourself how incapacitated I've become?"

Refusing to allow the frustration building inside her to overflow, Riza stood her ground and countered, "I never accused you of anything, Pride. You must believe me when I say that I don't know what happened back there. What happened… I need to think before—"

"What is there to think about," it shot back aggressively. " _You_ are the one who is in control. _You_ are the one who had last confronted him—"

"And what I'm saying is that I _didn't_ ," she snapped, no longer able to push back against the eager barrage of pain the souls were enacting against her mental barrier.

Pride pursed its lips together and narrowed its eyes. Riza sucked in a deep breath and lifted her hand to her head, trying to calm the whispers that had frenzied into a roar. She saw Pride's lips move and she shook her head, pushing the souls back enough for her to hear it again.

"I said," it reiterated harshly. "That there was a supposed threat to your safety."

She shook her head again and panted, "I wouldn't kill him. I might have disagreed with him in Ishval, and had felt ill-will toward him, but I would never kill Major Kimblee."

"Did you think that when you killed that soldier in Central?"

Her heart constricted and she gasped. The memory had nearly been lost to her, shrouded by the multitude of emotions and events that had quickly followed it. When she had discovered what had happened, when Pride had revealed that its shadows were no longer under its control, she had to come to terms with the knowledge that her underlying fears had manifested themselves and had killed an innocent soldier, one who likely had a wife and children at home.

The floodgates that had held back her guilt burst and she sank to her knees, digging her nails into her scalp. She had killed someone. She had killed and innocent man without even meaning to. Was it possible that she had done it again without consciously thinking about it? She barely registered when Pride knelt beside her, placing its hand on her shoulder. "You need to breathe," it instructed. "Or your body is outwardly going to reveal your distress."

"You make it sound like _it's easy,_ " she hissed through clenched teeth. "I killed someone and might have done it again."

Its grip on her shoulder tightened and she looked at Pride. Its brows were knitted together, the hardness of its face softening as it watched her slowly connect the pieces. A look of confusion crossed its face, though, and it said, "You said that you don't remember? You don't remember _any_ of it?"

"If I did," she wheezed, "I would have said…" It tore its gaze suddenly from her and rose to its feet, locking its eyes on a dark void that had cleared itself of the Stone's souls. "What does that mean—" she trailed off as it squinted, its posture silently quieting her.

Her eyes followed its and, as though it could feel her stare, Pride muttered, "I don't know…"

* * *

"I'm sorry, Father," Gluttony whimpered, timidly tapping his index fingers together, eyes averted from his gaze and fixated on the floor. "But… But Greed was there too, and I was going to eat him too but then…" He sniffled again and gave Father a pleading look. "I tried to get to them but then another person showed up."

Father rested his cheek against his fist and lifted a brow. "'Another,'" he echoed, and Gluttony nodded.

"He had a Philosopher's Stone too. I wanted to eat him too but…" He trailed off, looking down at the floor again. "He felt scary."

"Was his Philosopher's Stone similar to mine?"

Gluttony looked up, his blank stare fixated on Father. A few moments passed before he put the pieces together and nodded. "Yes, yes! That is what he was like, Father, yes!"

Father sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers together and pressing his lips against them. It seemed that Van Hohenheim had once again laid claim to Pride's Philosopher's Stone. But if anything like he had suspected happened with his encounter with Pride had occurred, then Hohenheim's efforts would be limited. "You said that you believe the chimera had delivered the souls I had intended for it to," he asked.

Gluttony perked up and feverishly nodded. "Yes Father, yes," it grinned widely. "I could smell her blood! Warm, delicious blood!"

Then that was all he could have hoped for, and possibly more. Solf Kimblee had been a valuable asset to them, yes, but his loss had not been in vain. The one he assumed had taken control was far weaker than the Pride he had expelled from his body. And, he thought as the corner of his lip twitched, that once it festered and manifested itself the way he had designed, it would only be a matter of time before it fulfilled its role.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** : _Sorry this took so long to update! A more detailed author's note at the bottom._

* * *

The hum of the engine that had kept Riza's mind in order died and her heart stopped. Lifting her eyes, she confirmed what she had long dreaded as the other inhabitants of the vehicle all shifted in their seats.

At long last, they had finally arrived. 'Finally,' she thought begrudgingly. Though she had known that facing the Colonel again was inevitable and had tried to prepare, she still felt as though there was nothing that could completely prepare her to see him again. The longing she had felt to see him again dissipated as the sound of someone padding around the truck reached her ears. Dread flooded the pit of her stomach as the back hatch of the vehicle opened and flooded the compartment with the morning's light. Her eyes narrowed and she hesitated to allow them to adjust.

None of the other occupants moved, eyes awkwardly turned away from the light while simultaneously dodging hers. She alleviated their uncomfortable avoidance by turning her eyes away, and waited for them to disembark. The chimeras were first to leave, supporting the friend who had been injured. Next Alphonse had risen to his feet, though he paused at the mouth of the compartment. She could feel his soul-fire eyes as they swept across her, sensing his hesitance despite himself. It was obvious to her that he was still conflicted in his mind, torn between wanting to interact with her while fearing Pride and its shadows. Eventually he made up his mind and slowly stepped out of the vehicle, an action she did not blame the boy for.

Hohenheim had ventured off to assist the others as they adjusted to the countryside setting they found themselves in, though she could feel his presence incredibly close to her, always putting itself between them and her. It was a necessary move, she knew.

Greed's eyes had refused to leave her from the moment the vehicle stopped, and she willed hers up to find his. He lifted a brow as his lips drew into a thin line and she shook her head. The air that had settled between them and the others was clearly demarcated, but at that point there was no turning back. As the feeling of dread waned, overshadowed by her desire for familiarity, she rose to her feet and slowly made her way to the back of the truck. She stopped, bracing her hand against its side when a familiar flash of black hair caught her eye.

Roy stopped too and his face darkened. Riza pushed back the immediate pang of anguish that settled in her stomach, having to remind herself that the anger was directed toward Pride. As she stepped down from the vehicle, however, a new sense of fear began to bleed into her mind. Though she had rehearsed in her mind their first encounter, she found that every word and situation that she had envisioned had suddenly disappeared from her mind. She braced herself for the barrage of questions or the venom-laced words he would direct toward Pride, but the closer he got, the more his face she could see that his expression changed.

With every step he took, the spiteful glint in his eye dulled and the anger that permeated the air that separated them dissipated. She found herself drawn toward him, the magnetism they had shared before reenergizing their connection. And within moments they had met in the middle.

In the periphery of her vision, she saw his hand twitch as he stopped himself from lifting it to her face. Instead he stopped short of the action, his hand finding her shoulder instead. The moment it contacted her, the tension that had wrought her body vanished, and for a moment she felt that sense of familiarity she had craved as he looked past the changes Pride's possession had inflicted on her body and murmured, "Lieutenant…"

* * *

"How is this even possible?"

Riza watched as Roy leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees. He made an attempt to press his lips against his knuckles, though the effort proved to be futile once he began to bounce his legs, and he abandoned the notion entirely. His eyes swept across the chimera they had befriended and over Alphonse, Winry, and May. They momentarily rested on Greed before they finally fell on Riza. He held her stare for a few moments, and, for the first time since she had reunited with him, he smiled. It was hardly noticeable; one of those rare smiles where the corners of his eyes wrinkled when his lips barely moved. But it was definitely there.

Though… it did little to comfort her.

Because behind that silent show of solidarity, she saw uncertainty. Fear almost. He was just as unsure about her future as she was. Maybe even more so. She knew that his knowledge in alchemy that would pertain to what happened to her would be lacking, but something in the back of her mind still held out for that hope that he would formulate something to try and make sense of the situation… and possibly a solution to repair it. But it seemed that, just like Van Hohenheim himself, Roy was at a loss as well.

She was thankful when he finally tore his eyes from hers to focus his attention on Hohenheim, who had finally cleared his throat in response to Roy's question. Before she allowed her glance to wander to the acclaimed alchemist, she clenched her hands together in an effort to stop them from shaking.

Hohenheim leaned forward as well and pushed his glasses up onto his nose as he admitted, "That's what I've been trying to answer myself." Roy's eyes narrowed, but before he could implore further, Hohenheim continued. "From what I gathered, the one who calls himself 'Father' wished to have Pride returned to his side. It seems that its forward thinking was enough to rattle him, and he decided that the only way to ensure that its loyalty remained with him was to tear Pride away from the Lieutenant's body. However, it seems that something went awry. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

A few moments passed before Riza registered his words, having been too focused on reliving that time. How powerless she had felt while she laid pinned to that table, unable to command her body to move. She had been completely at both Father and Pride's mercy, though the latter had been as reluctant as she. Riza chewed her lip for a moment, eyes quickly roaming over the room's occupants. Pinako had joined them at some point, adding to the sets of eyes and ears that were hearing for the first time what had happened. She did not dwell on watching them, however; too afraid of what their prolonged stares would mean.

The reluctance they all felt being near her hung heavy in the air around them, and was evidenced by the way they had positioned themselves. Every single one of them, aside from Roy, Hohenheim, and Greed, had chosen to seat themselves as far from her as the furniture arrangements would allow. But just like she had witnessed with Alphonse before, she refused to blame them for their reluctance. Alphonse, Winry, and May had the misfortune of seeing Pride's tenacity firsthand. It was no surprise they would be frightened, especially when she still bore the same physical semblance to it.

She nodded in reply and answered, "Yes. More or less, that was what Father intended."

Hohenheim dipped his head toward her before he turned to address Roy again. "In order to draw Pride from the Lieutenant's body, Father needed to extract her soul as well. But while doing so, something happened where the process was interrupted. The souls within Pride's Stone and the Lieutenant's soul, suddenly displaced, entered a state of tumultuous confusion. In this state, they were on equal grounds and vying for control. What I believe happened then was that the Lieutenant's soul, the body's original resident soul, managed to overcome the state of confusion first and subsequently assumed control. However," he added gravely, "That also meant that the Lieutenant's soul assumed control of the Philosopher's Stone as well."

"So there's a way to reverse this then," Roy pressed. "If what you claim is true, then the reverse can be done—"

Hohenheim shook his head, shutting his thought down. "It doesn't work like that, Colonel Mustang."

Roy's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"You see," Hohenheim began again, turning his palms face up. "What happened was a fluke – a flaw in plans the Homunculus that calls himself 'Father' laid out. He never meant for what happened to happen. In fact, if it went the way it had in his original design, your Lieutenant would not be sitting here before you."

Roy's eyes darted over to her. Riza held his gaze for a few moments before turning her attention to Hohenheim again, silently urging him to follow suit. His eyes remained on her for a few moments, drinking her in, before they finally tore themselves from her and followed her line of sight back to Hohenheim.

"If I remember correctly, you said that Pride had no recollection of its previous incarnation." Roy tensed, and Hohenheim seemed to pick up on it. Adjusting his glasses and pushing them up onto his nose again, he asked, "Am I correct in saying that?"

He was facing Roy, though Riza knew that the question was directed toward her. She nodded slowly, and he dipped his head in understanding. His eyes still focused on Roy, he said, "If that's the case, then wouldn't the same happen to the Lieutenant?"

Roy's eyes momentarily widened, though he was quick to mask his surprise behind skepticism. "A collection of souls with no real master is different than a single soul that has maintained its individuality."

"That's correct," Hohenheim agreed. "Though that still doesn't change the fact that a single soul cannot retain its individuality amongst a tempest of souls." Roy's brows creased but, before he could counter back, Hohenheim continued. "A soul may be the strongest you've ever encountered, but that still won't save it from becoming lost. If the Philosopher's Stone had been drawn from her body, and her soul along with it, its subtraction from her body would have immersed her with the souls within the Stone. And once it had passed through the Homunculus known as 'Father's' body, it would have almost certainly not been the soul you had known before."

Roy's brows wrinkled, and his eyes slowly slid over to Riza. Though his sympathy was genuine, there was still a degree of scrutiny behind his stare. As though he were suddenly rethinking his proclamation that the 'Riza' he was looking at _was_ actually her. And suddenly she felt herself no longer able to hold his stare. She turned her eyes away from him and focused on Hohenheim again, whose attention was still on Roy. She could still feel his eyes on her, however.

"So," he began quietly. "What you're saying is that if you remove the Philosopher's Stone from her body, her soul might no longer be in control?"

"More or less," Hohenheim replied, to which Roy shot him a skeptical look. He lifted his hands before the man opposite him could ask for clarification and continued, "The soul that is in control of the Stone will likely remain in that position. But from what I've gathered from Pride's words is that it did not remember anything from the life it had lived before. The original Pride was in control when it was reborn in your Lieutenant."

"You're saying that the Lieutenant might not remember the life she had before," Roy said, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. "Am I right?"

Hohenheim nodded. "Something about being completely separated from its shell seems to reset a Homunculus's memories."

"You say that as though she is one of them," Roy answered pointedly, agitated.

"I'm just saying that I don't want to take any chances," Hohenheim clarified. "If I attempt to do what the Homunculus in the flask did to her, there's a chance that she will no longer be the person she had once been."

Roy's eyes immediately drifted over to her, and this time the met his stare. He held her gaze for a few moments and without looking away, definitively said, "We'll find another way then." He turned his focus toward Hohenheim again. "I don't want to jeopardize her safety."

"Of course," Hohenheim said as his eyes followed Roy's to her. "I don't want to jeopardize your safety either. Despite not having known you for long, Lieutenant, I feel that I've gathered enough about you to paint a general picture of who you are. And based on what I've gathered about you, you do not seem to be the type to readily lie, especially in regard to what we've discussed," he said.

"That's because she isn't," Roy pointed out.

"Colonel," she interjected. Surprised, he turned toward her. "I know my principles, and so do you. But," she continued as his face fell, "I refuse to discount anything until we can eliminate every incorrect variable before the truth."

His face softened, and he sat back. "You're right, Lieutenant. Please, go on."

"Yes, sir," she answered quietly, weaving her fingers together in her lap. Riza took a deep breath, carefully allowing herself to revisit those memories. Though for the moment, she refused to allow herself to relive them, trying to keep herself from focusing on the faces of Kimblee and the nameless soldier. Not when she was feeling that vulnerable and exposed. Once she had a moment alone, she would allow herself to succumb to the remorse that tugged at her psyche. She swallowed and breathed a sigh through her nose. "Sir," she began again, voice catching on her throat.. "Solf J. Kimblee is dead."

The air between them instantly shifted. Without looking up, she knew that every eye in the room had fallen upon her. She could feel their stares boring into her, suffocating her. Riza curled her fingers into a fist and then uncurled them, her eyes focused on a spot on the floor in front of her. The revelation was shocking, albeit unbelievable, as what she felt in the air was less than certain. Still, she reminded herself, she had to overturn every rock, explore every option. No one, not even herself, was certain what had happened, but she had been the closest at the time, and she could not refuse to—

"Alphonse," Roy's voice cut through her thoughts. "Winry and May," he continued. "For the time being, I ask that you three leave us to discuss the rest of this matter."

In the moments that followed, none of the three who were addressed moved, too absorbed in the conversation to think about leaving. But a simple glance toward them and their guests was enough to prompt the former to act, with Zampano and Jerso jumping up to follow through with his request.

"We should probably check on Darius," Zampano muttered as he stood. Jerso followed his lead and then motioned to May for her to follow. The little girl hesitated, wide eyes flickering over to Alphonse to seek confirmation from him. But his soul-fire eyes, from what she had felt, remained glued to Riza the entire time.

She clutched her hands harder, avoiding his stare. It had to have been something he had pieced together based on the scene that had been laid out in front of him when they found her. But perhaps up until that point he had been in denial, refusing to believe that the Lieutenant he had known for so long was capable of such a heinous act, despite knowing deep down her involvement in Ishval.

"Alphonse."

This time she willed her eyes up to find that he had directed his attention toward the Colonel. Seeing that he had the boy's attention, Roy's face softened. "We need a few minutes to discuss the rest of this matter in private. Why don't you guys take the time to check and see how your brother is doing?"

"Oh… right," came the boy's reluctant reply as he slowly rose to his feet. In turn, both Winry and May rose beside him, following his lead.

"That's an excellent idea," Pinako murmured into her pipe, hopping off the couch. "I can make a pot of coffee for those interested."

Roy's eyes never fell on her, though Riza could feel the relief he exuded upon hearing that statement.

"C'mon," she continued, gesturing to the three children who stood awkwardly in front of their seats. "I'm sure Edward could use the company."

The two young girls obediently followed, though Alphonse reluctantly dragged behind. He stopped in the doorway for a few moments before turning to look over his shoulder at them again. She avoided the boy's gaze when it eventually glossed over her. Riza could feel his soul-fire eyes stop on her as he tried to process what she had said. But another stern look from Roy sent the boy a final warning and he finally stepped away. They waited until the hollow steps died away before any of them spoke.

"'Solf J. Kimblee is dead,'" Roy finally muttered, lacing his fingers together and pressing his lips against them. "Have you confirmed that?"

"Indeed," Hohenheim cut in. "It was confirmed by multiple witnesses to be him."

Though his eyes never wandered over to her, Riza could feel Roy's questioning air. The subject was delicate and the self-accusation was damning. Still, she refused to back down and shy away from the gravity of the situation at hand. Because despite not knowing what occurred during the intermediate battle, she was aware of the conclusion that played out, and knew that one way or another, the shadows that had been bestowed upon her were involved.

"Sir," she said again, directing his attention toward her. "While I myself am still trying to piece together what occurred, I can confirm that the one who was there and was subsequently killed was Major Solf J. Kimblee. But what I don't know," she continued quietly, "Is how."

Roy's eyes momentarily drifted from her and flicked over to Hohenheim, and momentarily skirted over Greed, whose uncharacteristic silence proved unnerving. The former cleared his throat, drawing Roy's attention toward him once again. "A blast was what drew us toward their location. From what I gathered once we arrived, a significant amount of alchemic energy had been discharged, creating a sizeable rift in the ground. From my understanding, the alchemic power produced by the alleged Lotus Alchemist Solf J. Kimblee was not too unlike that energy. Based on that knowledge, I've concluded that it was the blast that killed him. But it's like the Lieutenant said: What happened before that point is difficult to determine."

Roy's lips pulled into a thin line, troubled by what little information they had despite being at the scene. His eyes drifted to Riza again, though they held no questioning spark to them. Instead they were steeped with the same confusion they all felt. His focused then turned toward the Homunculus who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room.

Greed lifted an unamused brow and folded his arms over his chest. "You look like you're expecting me to provide some input."

"You were the one who was with Lieutenant Hawkeye," Roy pointed out.

"Yeah, so what's your point?" He jabbed his thumb toward his chest. "I was trying to keep Gluttony away from her. Damn eating machine had shown up along with them too."

"Gluttony?" Roy glanced at Hohenheim who confirmed it with a nod.

"I sensed another weaker Philosopher's Stone in the area, though it never made an appearance."

"Probably because he ran off to go eat something since I wouldn't let him eat us."

"It seems that Father would go so far to take my Philosopher's Stone that he was willing to allow Gluttony to devour it," Riza murmured. They turned toward her and she winced. Saying 'my' left a bitter taste on her tongue, and an uncomfortable air in its wake. It was something that should have never needed to be said. An abomination of a situation that should have never come into being.

"Yeah, mine too," Greed added with disdain.

"So Gluttony was the primary assailant then," Roy concluded and Riza shook her head.

"It seemed to be a collaborative effort, sir. One way or another, they were going to get the Philosopher's Stone."

"Pride was the first Homunculus, after all," Greed pointed out, leaning back against the chair and folding his arms behind his head. "It's a pretty valuable pawn for Father. He wants what he wants, so he pulled out all the stops to get what he wanted." His lips curled. "Though it seems that he's slipped in his old age. His entire plan is in shambles, and another blow to his ego confirms that he can't even get his hands on another Philosopher's Stone."

"'Plan,'" Roy echoed as his eyes narrowed. "What 'plan?'"

"I have a few conditions before I give you anything." Greed's smirk broadened. "So let's begin negotiating, starting with your Lieutenant's loyalty—"

"That is a matter that may be discussed at another time," Hohenheim cut in. "Right now, our concern lies with what had happened and whether this piece of Father's plan actually fell through or not."

Greed's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, old man?"

Hohenheim turned and gestured toward Riza. "I take both your word and your superior officer's regarding your integrity, Lieutenant. But I would like to evaluate every angle of the situation that we can." He steepled his fingers in front of himself and added, "Starting with discussing what Pride knows."

" _Gladly…"_ Riza pressed her lips together and Pride, sensing her hesitance continued, _"You've given me the opportunity before, Lieutenant. It's time that I tell what I know."_

She knew it was right, but something inside of her nagged her to not allow it the temporary freedom it sought. But its uncertainty from before reminded her that it had been just as concerned as the rest of them about the lapse in time where neither one of them could recall what happened. To withhold that information simply for her own comfort was not an option. So with that, she agreed and slipped from control.

* * *

Taking a moment to relish her freedom, Pride crossed a leg over her knee and rested her chin on her hand, eyes carefully combing over the three others who were seated in the room with her.

First was Greed, whose glare she caught for a moment before dismissing him and turning away to focus on Hohenheim. It was obvious and somewhat amusing how off-put he was when she had a few moments of control. But then again, the loss of the Lieutenant's control meant the loss of control of the shadows she now possessed.

Hohenheim had already been studying her by the time her eyes found his. She could see his mind turning behind his eyes, recalling the series of encounters they had both been a part of. Every failed attempt at separating them played like a picture show in his gaze, and an amused smile tugged at her lips. He more than any of them understood Philosopher's Stones and the alchemical advances they were capable of achieving. But despite his vast wealth of knowledge, she could see him struggling to make something of what little information he had.

And then there was the Colonel, whose sympathetic gaze turned to ice the moment he sensed the Lieutenant was gone. Her smile grew when their eyes met and the resent he felt coagulated in the air between them. She could see the hate brewing inside of him. Had she complete control, she would have made sure to reiterate on the fact that Lieutenant Hawkeye was hers to control. But with that card no longer in her hands, she instead decided to acknowledge his stare before turning toward Hohenheim as he cleared his throat to draw her attention.

"I presume I am speaking with Pride?"

"Indeed," she muttered, the smile fading from her face. "And I presume you're going to question me about what happened? I'll save you the trouble and wasted breath and tell you that I don't know what happened." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Colonel shift uncomfortably. Keeping her attention on Hohenheim, she added, "The Lieutenant's vision turned black and so did the area surrounding me."

Hohenheim leaned forward. "Turned black, you say? Care to elaborate?"

She shrugged. "There's nothing more to say. I don't remember what happened." Hohenheim's eyes narrowed and she lifted a brow in response. "You don't believe me?"

"No," he said. "It's not that I don't believe you. Rather, I think there's more to the story than what you've told me."

She shifted uncomfortably. "It seems as though you're trying to get something that isn't there, Hohenheim," she replied coolly. "But rest assured: when I say that there isn't more to the story, there isn't." He pressed his lips together and his brows creased together, and she knew that he didn't believe her.

" _Pride-"_

"Shut up," she hissed, cutting through the Lieutenant's words. She rose to her feet as Hawkeye attempted it again, pushing her soul back and away from the forefront of the Stone. The Lieutenant responded by pushing back more forcibly.

A hand pressed against her shoulder and she twirled around to find Hohenheim in her direct line of sight. Before he could get a word in, her arm shot up and grabbed the collar of his shirt. He remained stone-faced and unyielding. Her grip on Hohenheim's collar tightened. "I don't appreciate the blame you've laid on my shoulders, _Hohenheim_. Because if there's one thing I'm not, it's a liar."

His face remained impassive and he calmly placed a hand atop hers to pry her fingers from his shirt. "I'm not placing the blame on you. In fact, I feel as though I know less than I did before. Please, elaborate for me and explain why you aren't the one who killed Kimblee."

A malicious smirk drifted over her face as she shadows she had lost control of rose and fell in small waves at her feet. Her eyes darted down to them, pleased by the minute amount of control she had gartered. When she looked up at him, Pride purred, "This is the extent of my control, Hohenheim. If you think I had managed to combat Kimblee in this state, then you are sorely mistaken."

Hohenheim's brows rose. "All you're proving, Pride," he said as he tightened his grip on her hand. "Is that you have some control over them. All it would take to inflict the damage I perceived is one carefully placed strike from one of those shadows."

Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth. The shadows made rigid movements up to her arm and she drew it back, preparing to strike. But before she could, a hand caught her wrist and the shadows dissipated. She whirled around and found the Colonel behind her. When their eyes met, his grip on her wrist tightened and his face darkened. The feeling of disdain dissolved and for a moment a self-satisfied grin spread across her face. "It's a terrible realization isn't it, Colonel Mustang? Discovering it's your Lieutenant who's the monster."

"That's enough of your lies, Pride," he hissed.

She clicked her tongue and tilted her head. "I thought I told you: I may be many things, but the one thing I am not is a liar." The Lieutenant shoved back against her temporary control and she gave. The miniscule amount of energy she had mustered had already been spent and she slipped back into the corner of the Stone that had been carved for her.

* * *

A splash of blood clouded Riza's vision and Roy's grip on her wrist tore away. She stepped back, horrified, as the shadow that had torn through his cheek dissipated. With a hiss, he lifted the hand that had grabbed her wrist to his bloodied cheek and pressed it against the wound it had created. Her hand went to her mouth and she retreated away from him.

"Lieutenant, wait," he said, quick to recover from the blow. He took a step toward her as Hohenheim stopped beside her, as though expecting the situation to escalate.

"Don't," she warned as she stepped back, increasing the distance between them twice what he had closed. She could feel his betrayed stare boring into her, but this space also meant his safety. "I think it's best that you keep your distance, sir. Please."

He stopped in his tracks as pain flashed across his face. She could see the blood beginning to seep through his fingers, dripping down his fingers and face and down onto his jacket. Her fingers twitched and she balled her hand into a fist. In a strange, horrifying way, she could taste the faint iron tinge that was characteristic of blood.

She took another step away from him as a pool of dread filled her. Whatever part of her she felt she had been missing before had not returned when they were reunited. She had believed before it had been that separation that was the reason for it. But now that she was standing face-to-face with him, after he had learned and knew everything about what had happened, she felt sick to her stomach. As though the pit in her stomach had grown and devoured every bit of confidence she had had before. And it had manifested itself and hurt him.

She had been foolish to believe that everything that they had shared before would withstand the test of time, and every obstacle they would face. She had been wrong to believe that there was no exception that would test her undying devotion to him or their dream.

She had been wrong.

When he made a move toward her again, she stepped back into the hallway and, out of the corner of her eye, saw a door that had been left ajar. She stumbled the few remaining steps back into it and slammed the door shut. Riza fumbled around until her hand found the light switch and, when she turned it on and her eyes adjusted, discovered that it was one of the home's restrooms. Her rigid movements had knocked a towel from a towel rack and without thought, she shoved it beneath the door, occluding the crack between the door and the door jamb.

"Lieutenant!"

Riza stumbled away from the door and wrapped her arms around herself, repeating over and over in her mind above the roar of the souls that the 'threat' that stood on the other side was not a threat at all. "Colonel, please," she gasped as the shadows rolled around her feet. "Please just… give me a minute."

The pounding stopped. She could see his shadow beneath the door, standing at attention, waiting for what she would say next. But she shook her head and sank down onto the seat, hanging her head between her legs as another rush moved to sway her soul. She bit down on her tongue and felt the sparks begin to dance across its surface as it began to heal, forcing the Stone's attention away from the Colonel.

She cracked an eye open and saw that he had not moved away from the door, and begged him to heed her request.

She had been wrong, she thought as she tried to quell the continual roar of the souls. She had been wrong.

She had been _wrong_.

* * *

Roy's hand hovered above the door, trembling, as he contemplated refusing her request. But the protuberant sting of the cut the shadow had left urged him to heed what she had asked of him and he quietly took a step back.

He refused to believe what Pride had so proudly quipped. He _knew_ her. Lifting his hand, he brushed his fingers over the cut and pulled it away, looking down at the blood that stained them. His mind was still reeling and piecing together what had been said, but one thing that had been a certain fixture in his thoughts was that her reaction had been surprise.

"Well that was quite the show, wasn't it?"

Roy's eyes flickered over to Greed, who had propped himself against the wall opposite him. A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, displaying the monster's sharpened teeth.

Without turning his gaze toward the Homunculus, Roy answered, "All that happened was that I startled her." He rubbed his fingers together at his side, flaking off the bits of blood that had dried at their tips.

Greed scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. "Well that's obvious. Funny you have to say it out loud to confirm to yourself that it's true." This time Roy whirled around, the Homunculus catching his complete attention. Greed tilted his head. "Just say it already. It's unsettling, isn't it?"

Roy straightened himself and narrowed his gaze. "No. it's simply fact. All we can do now is move forward and figure out a way to reverse what happened."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Greed snorted and rolled his eyes.

The corner of Roy's lip twitched. He had been in the Homunculus's presence for a collective hour at most, and already it was beginning to test him. Though they had hardly hit it off by any means with his suggested 'barter' for Riza. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm just trying to get you to face the music and realize that the Lieutenant is just like—"

Before Roy realized it, the distance between them had been closed and his hand was wound tightly around the collar of Greed's shirt. Its clawed hand immediately locked around his wrist, and its devilish violet eyes narrowed. Refusing to bow to its show of strength, he tightened his grip. But rather than strike back, the Homunculus's face softened and he chuckled. "My Lieutenant's loyalty is not something that can be given away," Roy snarled. " _She_ is the only one who can decide what she does. Suggesting that she's like you to drive a wedge between us and force her away won't work."

An almost sympathetic grin spread across Greed's face and he tilted his head. "So what you're saying is that you won't mind when she finally makes her decision to follow me then, right? Because whether you like it or not, the Lieutenant is more like me than she'll ever be like you now," Greed said as he peeled Roy's fingers off the collar of his shirt. When his grip loosened enough, the Homunculus pushed his hand away and brushed the front of his shirt of, casting Roy a self-satisfied glance. " _I'm_ the only one who knows how to teach control."

"You think that just because you're…" Roy trailed off and the word sat on the edge of his reluctant tongue. Greed picked up on his reluctance and Roy pushed back the utter disgust he felt as the monster smirked. "Just because you're similar."

Greed snorted at his refusal to use the dreaded term and lifted a knowing brow. "Keep dodging the truth, Colonel. I'm sure it'll do you good when the next time you 'startle' her results with your head cut clean off your shoulders." The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention away for a moment and he leaned back, peering around the corner to see who it was that was moving. Turning back to Roy, he shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets, angling himself toward the hallway that ran perpendicular to where they stood. "Keep that in mind for later because I'm sure she's already considering what I said." Pointing toward his own cheek, mirroring the spot where the cut on Roy's was, he added, "Make sure you take care of that," before turning on his heels, leaving Roy standing alone to digest what he had said.

* * *

Despite the souls having quieted down, Riza still found that remnants of her struggle to keep them contained remained. She gripped the edge of the sink and slowly pushed herself to her feet, knees trembling, as she fought against the fatigue that had set in in both her mind and body. Pride's voice, weakened by its prior stunt, had been drowned out by the cacophony that had ensued. Now it was gone, having retreated to lick its wounds, and leaving her alone with the

She pressed a hand against the mirror and locked eyes with the reflection that stared back. From the moment she had realized what had happened and had seen glimpses of Pride's influence in her face to then, she hadn't the time to truly look and take in its effects. The eyes she had seen flash red in the broken pieces of glass in Central still remained the most prominent feature she could see. Her thumb absently dragged across her reflection, across the eyes that were so blaringly visible.

The dirt, the remnants of blood – _had it been there before, or was it fresh_ -, that spotted her face, nor the dark circles beneath them did nothing to obscure that fact. Her hand trailed down the glass and fell to the faucet, turning it to allow the water to freely flow. She stood, breath caught in her throat, as the vision before her sank in. The word pressed at the back of her mind but she pushed it away, dipping her hand beneath the spray of water until she wetted it enough. As she lifted her hand to her face, it pushed back against her will, demanding that she confront its reality. She began to wipe away the dirt, dodging its presence for a few moments more.

Riza knew it was futile to believe that it could wash away what she had become, but at that moment it was the only thing she could grasp without completely shattering beneath the situation's gravity.

Homunculus.

The hand stopped.

Edward's father had said so easily, applying it to Greed… and herself. The word held with it a bitter taste. Even the thought of it left a raw, disgusting taste in her mouth. 'Homunculus' was a term that they had reserved for an almost otherworldly being. A monster.

She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself as the realization slowly washed over her.

Homunculus.

No longer was it a term that she associated with monsters of myth and legend. Now she was living the life of one, trapped in an endless cycle of deconstruction and reconstruction. From what she understood, the lives of the souls trapped within the Philosopher's Stone would be stacked on each other, adding to the span she already had on her own life. Every injury and every shadow cast from that point on that would severely deplete or even end one of the lives within the Stone. While it would lessen the already long life it had cursed her with, it would also destroy one of the souls, and therefore another life, no matter its state of mind.

Every single soul within the Philosopher's Stone was once a living, breathing person. Using and depleting it until it fizzled into nonexistence was essentially taking its life. And that in and of itself was too unbearable for her to follow through with. The realization then hit her with the force of a freight train. She would be doomed to live this existence until their lives, and eventually hers, naturally decayed. She would watch as those she cared for most grow, age, and eventually die.

That is, if there was anyone left…

Roy's face flashed through her mind – the expressions he had worn since she had returned to him playing before her mind's eye. The anger toward Pride, the sympathetic worry that had overtaken his expression when she had finally confessed to him what had occurred, the softness in his eyes. But then the fear that had overcome him sprang to the forefront of her mind, and the blood that had poured from his cheek clouded her vision.

Her knees began to tremble again and she pressed her hands against the sink to keep herself from slipping onto the floor. She had done that to him, the one person she had sworn to protect, and had nearly torn him to pieces without thought.

Just like that soldier who had been as innocent as the souls within the Philosopher's Stone…

Her grip on the edge of the skin loosened as his face flashed into her mind, and the remaining strength she had had in her knees vanished. She slowly sank down to the floor as the realization of the amount of blood on her hands overtook her. Riza wrapped her arms around herself, biting down on her lower lip to break the sob that had been building in the back of her throat.

She had been wrong.

It had been a mistake returning to them, believing that there was a place for her there among them again. The danger they faced because of her presence, because of her lack of control, was far too great. Because now she realized that there was no longer a question of 'if' someone would be hurt again; but rather, _when_.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Again, apologies for how long this took! To be honest, I've been feeling pretty reluctant to continue with this fic. The words are (mostly) there, but I'm worried that my pacing/descriptions/characterizations may have been slipping and that I'm not staying true to the characters. I'm going to think about it for a while, but I may hiatus this fic for a bit until I get my ducks in a row (or possibly rewrite the chapter). Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews - they truly mean a lot! If there are any suggestions for how to go about combatting this little bump, or how to better manage the characters, feel free to message me!_


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